Launch Day and Taking Flight are the first chapters of the same story—one about choosing imagination over limitation, and possibility over fear. When I created these pieces, I wasn’t just painting children at play; I was honoring the moment a dream becomes real enough to reach for.

In Launch Day, the young boy moves with pure instinct. His cardboard helmet, his soda-bottle rocket held together with his own shoelaces—these aren’t just props. They’re symbols of what it means to build from what you have. I wanted to show that beginnings rarely look polished. They’re messy, improvised, and brave. That bright yellow behind him isn’t just background—it’s the energy of a life that’s just starting to lift off.

Taking Flight continues that journey, but through a different lens. The girl in the cardboard airplane looks toward a horizon she’s already claiming. By portraying her without skin color, I wanted to remove every barrier the world might place on her. Her identity isn’t restricted by labels; it’s shaped by the dreams she dares to chase. And that bold, vibrant backdrop behind her? That’s the world she’s building—alive with possibility. Her cardboard plane, like his rocket, is a reminder that imagination alone can be enough to carry us forward.

Together, these works celebrate the courage to begin, the power of resourcefulness, and the belief that flight isn’t granted—it’s chosen. These pieces aren’t just about children dreaming. They’re about all of us, at any age, finding the conviction to step into what we’re meant to become, even before we feel ready.