When I was in my second year of graduate school at FSU, I was feeling severely burnt out and stuck on what to do with my work (as one naturally feels in grad school.)‍ One night, when I was working in the studio, my godfather texted me to share these old, really shitty, drawings that I made for him as a kid. One of which, were the butterflies pictured on the left.

When he sent them to me, I immediately got emotional and started to cry. The drawings felt so pure and genuinely embedded with love for my family. They didn’t have any shame or self-judgement tied to them. They simply existed, in all of their crude and whimsical glory.