You get a call. One of those life, get here now, calls.

You rushed to the hospital and now you’re sitting in a cold waiting room on a chair crammed together, a big TV on the wall blaring fried chicken commercials and a random home improvement show as you squint from the overhead fluorescent lights. You’re waiting. You’re waiting for news, any good news. You’re wondering who else to text at a time like this. A person you love is in a hospital bed. You consult your faith. You do anything to distract from the torment of not knowing what the outcome will be.

The couple arguing on the screen about what color to paint their den feels ridiculous, when you’ve just been reminded of life and death.

You decide to walk around, unable to sit still from your own thoughts. You walk around and see a painting hanging, a multitude of colors.

A real made-by-hand painting. Not a poster. Not a drug ad.

For a moment the room feels less sterile and more human. For a moment you notice the tree-line looks like it did on a vacation you once took to Tennessee. The sun is out in the scene, making this midnight trip to the hospital feel even stranger and reminding you that a beautiful world exists that you want your loved one to return for. For a moment, you’re distracted.

For a moment.

For this precious pause of distraction is my easy yes.

I give select paintings away to places where healing happens and learning is encouraged because they need it most. Yes, I could sell my art to individuals, but when I started painting, I did so to relieve my mental stress and soothe myself. If it can work as a solution for me, I am offering it to others to relieve their pain. Even for a moment. It matters.

Sometimes hope is found framed on a wall.

This is my why.

If you would like to join this community, this eco-system of creating authentic art and putting it into rooms that gentleness most? See below. We can do this together.