These two pieces were born from one story.
This past March, I found myself reflecting on my 20s… and on my father, who was born in March. He left when I was young, shortly after the passing of my brother Axel, who died of leukemia. The last words my father said to me were that I was going to become nothing.
For a long time, those words stayed with me. I carried the pain and the anger, letting them shape how I saw myself. And yet, I struggled with that anger—how could I be angry at someone who had also lost a son?
One day in March, I went for a run and found myself thinking about it all again. I stopped, overwhelmed, and for the first time I let it out. That moment stayed with me. It led me to sketching… and eventually to painting.
In that process, I realized how much I have grown—not because of what I was told, but because I chose to grow. The anger is no longer something I carry, but the sadness remains. And I no longer see that as something to erase. Instead, I’ve learned to understand it, to embrace it… and to bloom from it.
Through these pieces, I gave those feelings a place to exist. The first represents the moment of realization—of separating the anger from the sadness, and finding growth within it.
The second is what came after—a quiet recognition, a sense of pride in who I’ve become, while still holding that blue as part of me.
I hope that as you experience them, you’re able to feel what lives beyond the surface.
