As a kid, I’d always stare at this art piece that hung in my grandma’s living room completely confused.

The shapes, the colors… I couldn’t understand why it was even considered art.

A few months ago, I looked at it again and this time, it hit different.

I finally got it.

It was an ode to my grandma’s love for jazz.. a reminder that no matter what life brings, you keep playin’ that music. 🎷

That moment made me realize how much her spirit lives in the art I create today.

Now, everywhere I go, I try to carry a piece of her love with me.

I didn’t understand it back then… but I understand now.

Never stop playin’ that music.

Thank you, Grama. 🫶🏽