This painting is called Bumble, not just for the bee, but for the child I was… and the mother who saw me.

From the earliest days I can remember, animals have been the golden thread weaving peace, purpose, and presence into the fabric of my life. But it was the horse that first whispered to my soul.

A white horse with golden wings descends into water, light pouring from his mane.
Below him, a spirit-fish floats, still and silent — caught in that sacred space between here and heaven.
And though no words pass between them, their golden threads speak everything.

Fleeting Freedom was born from one of those moments. A black horse emerged in my vision, not galloping, but gliding — as if running through a prayer. Her mane moved like water, her hooves barely touched the earth, and around her danced hummingbirds.