There are certain paintings that feel like a step forward…
and then there are the ones that feel like a shift.
Looking In is one of those paintings.
At first glance, it’s simple—a young girl standing at the base of a tree, drawn into a small nook within it. But the longer I sat with it, the more I realized what it was really about.
Not looking outward… but inward.
As I painted, I kept coming back to Matthew 18:3–5—the reminder that to truly see, to truly understand, we must become like children. Humble. Curious. Open.
Children don’t overanalyze.
They don’t guard themselves the way we learn to as adults.
They lean in. They explore. They wonder.
And somewhere along the way, we lose that.
This painting became a quiet invitation—to return to that place.
To ask questions again.
To reflect honestly.
To look at ourselves with the same curiosity instead of criticism.
What’s interesting is that just last week, I sold a painting called Beyond the Horizon—a piece I created two years ago of a little girl standing on a fence, looking out at the sunset.
That painting was about looking forward.
About hope.
About what’s ahead.
And now, Looking In feels like its counterpart.
Not forward. Not outward.
But inward.
It feels like confirmation to me that the vision I had years ago—of telling stories through these quiet childhood moments—wasn’t something fleeting. It’s something I’m still being called to explore.
This piece also marks the moment where that storytelling fully meets my palette knife style—the texture, the movement, the emotion all working together in a way that feels more aligned than ever before.
If Beyond the Horizon was about where we’re going…
Looking In is about who we are becoming along the way.
And maybe, in becoming more like children again, we find the truest version of ourselves.
Click here to check out the painting!
