I started this piece in June of 2025. I loved it, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to add a green layer on top or leave it in its black and gold state. So I sat with it—debating—for nine months.
Today, I finally decided to trust that instinct and add the green. It gave the piece the depth and life I felt it was asking for. I love it even more now. Up close, the textures and colors blend so organically and freely that I feel a sense of calm just looking at it.
The inspiration for this painting came from a YouTube video by BlackBeardArtStudio. I was immediately drawn in. After watching, I started reading through the comments, and one in particular stayed with me.
By the time I finished reading it, tears were streaming down my face. As I read the responses, I found myself fully crying. The stories were so human, so touching and relatable—but most of all, incredibly loving.
Here is the comment that moved me so deeply:
Comment by @ViKee010 on YouTube (7 years ago) [link]:
“I was going to simply write, this is beautiful. Until you asked at the end for us to share our thoughts and comments. So I will. This touched me in a way that’s hard to describe. Tonight I spent what I strongly feel will be my last Christmas Eve with my Mom and Dad.
I’ve cared for them the past year and I’ve watched them grow old. And gnarly. But this painting made me think of my Dad and his hands. How, one time they were young and picked me up and dusted me off.
How they worked hard to provide for my Mom, my sister and I. How they started to age and still were strong. And now how they shake. How they are clean when once they only became clean after a week of vacation. He was a mechanic. But now he’s a shaky, thin man. He’s bent, but will always seem strong in my eyes and heart.
I needed this, I think, tonight—as I believe soon he’ll be moving on to a better place. It just hit me so very strongly tonight that I’ll have to learn to live without him for a while. And I’m grieving, although I can still at this moment touch his hands and hold him close.
But thank you, for this beautiful painting. It looks strong, but we don’t know how long it will be with us. And it makes me grieve.”
I don’t think I could ever articulate the importance of art better than she did in that moment.
Art holds memory. It holds grief. It holds love.
And sometimes, it gives us a way to feel all of those things at once. That feeling—the fragility beneath strength—is something I find myself trying to create in my own work, too.
I found myself thinking of my own mother and father, and all the love and care they’ve given to my sister and me.
The roots they planted together continue to grow within us. They weren’t perfect or linear, but they were always grounded in love—and for that, I am deeply grateful.
I usually let my son name my paintings, so I asked him what he would call this one.
He said “Old Green Tree”… or “Tree of Art.”
This time, though, I felt the need to name it myself.
Gratitude.
Because at its core, that’s what this piece holds.