Standing beside a Legacy

When I finally decided to start this blog, I knew exactly what my first post would be about. Not my newest painting, an exhibition, or even the inspiration behind my work. But the one thing that quietly holds every canvas I create, the easel my father built for me.

My father was my biggest supporter and, simultaneously, my most honest critic. His belief in my potential was unwavering, a fact made evident when he built me a towering nine-foot easel, confidently proclaiming that one day I would create large, impactful artworks. His support was a constant source of motivation, yet he never hesitated to offer constructive criticism, pushing me to refine my skills and strive for excellence. His dual role in my life, both encouraging and challenging, shaped my artistic journey profoundly. His faith in me instilled a deep sense of purpose and determination, driving me to pursue my dreams with relentless passion.

This easel was built for me when I needed it most. I remember watching him measure, adjust, tighten bolts, and test it with a kind of quiet precision only a father has. It was not just about holding a canvas. It was about holding space, for me, for my process, for something bigger than either of us could articulate at the time.

Over the years, that easel has seen it all. Every creative high and doubt-filled pause. Every portrait I laboured over, hoping to “get it right.” It’s held paintings I’ve been proud of, and ones I’ve painted over.

And through it all, it’s stood tall, steady, patient, a silent collaborator in my journey as an artist.

To the outside world, it’s just wood and screws. But to me, it’s a symbol of support, belief, and the unspoken ways love shows up.

Why I Wanted to Share This

So much of being an artist is about what happens beyond the canvas, the memories stitched into our process, the people who hold us up (sometimes literally).

This blog will be about all of that. About art, yes - but also about life, family, identity, healing, and the messy, beautiful in-between spaces.

I couldn't bear the thought of this precious artifact being destroyed , preserving not just a piece of equipment, but a profound connection to my father's faith in me and my own dreams as an artist.

And it felt right to start with the easel that holds it all, built not by a stranger, but by someone who was quietly cheering me on from the beginning.

Thank you for reading. If there’s something (or someone) that silently holds you up in your creative life, I’d love to hear about it.

💛Feel free to share your story in the comments or drop me a message.