There is a quiet companionship that forms in the studio—one that doesn’t speak, move loudly, or demand attention. It simply exists, and yet its presence shapes everything. This painting was born from that kind of presence.

In my studio, there is a small autograph tree who has become one of my most loyal companions. When I first brought him home—yes, in my heart he has always been a he—he lived in soil. Eventually, I moved him into water, and something beautiful happened. He began to thrive. His roots grew long and strong, and new leaves unfurled one by one, almost as if he were responding to being seen, nurtured, and allowed to simply be.

He sits in front of me every day as I paint, write, plan, dream, or sit in stillness. His presence is grounding. Quiet. Patient. He listens without words, absorbs without effort, and reminds me to slow down and return to what is real. In many ways, he holds space for my creative process.