I once sat staring at a piece of original art that was, for me, a real stretch to purchase. The gallery owner sat me down on a couch with the piece and said, “No pressure. It is or isn’t right. But take your time. You will know. I’ve never regretted any original art I bought, only the ones I didn’t.”

I have never forgotten that, because he was right. It still pains me that I didn’t buy the Shir Wooten. It was a stretch for me. But I can’t stop thinking about it and wish so very much I had found a way to bring it home.

Sarah and I have been friends for decades, shared experiences and vulnerabilities, joy and some pain; she’s supported me and I have supported her. But here’s the thing: This is for ME. I always knew I would just know when the Joy Painting meant for me would show itself.

This Feels Like Hope.

You know it when you see it, when you feel it, when it’s meant for you.

I love other series of Sarah’s, but it was all in my head. That’s aesthetically pleasing. I’m glad she tried that. This is cool.

What happened when I looked at This Feels Like Hope was no kind of thought process.

It was connection. It was seeing my insides on the outside.

And I think this is what the gallery owner was trying to tell me. When you see your insides on the outside, don’t let that go. Bring it home to be with you every day.

You will never regret it.