





Someone To Look-up To
From the Art with Attitude Series
Success doesn’t always feel like a celebration—sometimes, it feels like isolation.
Someone to Look Up To is a visual reckoning with the quiet truth so many driven souls face: the further you rise, the fewer familiar faces you see. Painted in serene yet striking turquoise, this piece centers a child’s gaze—calm, clear, and contemplative—reminding us that even in our highest moments, what we often crave most is connection.
This is not a painting of loneliness—it’s a portrait of understanding. Of feeling the distance between who we are and who we’re becoming, while still holding space for hope, for softness, for someone to recognize the path we’re on. The red that pulses behind the subject symbolizes the fight, the passion, the relentless pursuit of more. But it’s the turquoise wash that calms, as if whispering: “You’re not alone.”
The abstract touches of tan, white, and black become emotional landscapes—grit, reflection, moments of doubt, and the quiet clarity that arrives just before a breakthrough. The subject’s childlike innocence isn’t weakness—it’s honesty. And that honesty reflects back at every viewer who’s ever looked around and wondered if anyone else gets it.
Someone to Look Up To is not a cry for help. It’s a mirror—showing you that while your path may feel solitary, your story is anything but.
18”x24”x1” stretch canvas
Medium: acrylic paint
From the Art with Attitude Series
Success doesn’t always feel like a celebration—sometimes, it feels like isolation.
Someone to Look Up To is a visual reckoning with the quiet truth so many driven souls face: the further you rise, the fewer familiar faces you see. Painted in serene yet striking turquoise, this piece centers a child’s gaze—calm, clear, and contemplative—reminding us that even in our highest moments, what we often crave most is connection.
This is not a painting of loneliness—it’s a portrait of understanding. Of feeling the distance between who we are and who we’re becoming, while still holding space for hope, for softness, for someone to recognize the path we’re on. The red that pulses behind the subject symbolizes the fight, the passion, the relentless pursuit of more. But it’s the turquoise wash that calms, as if whispering: “You’re not alone.”
The abstract touches of tan, white, and black become emotional landscapes—grit, reflection, moments of doubt, and the quiet clarity that arrives just before a breakthrough. The subject’s childlike innocence isn’t weakness—it’s honesty. And that honesty reflects back at every viewer who’s ever looked around and wondered if anyone else gets it.
Someone to Look Up To is not a cry for help. It’s a mirror—showing you that while your path may feel solitary, your story is anything but.
18”x24”x1” stretch canvas
Medium: acrylic paint
From the Art with Attitude Series
Success doesn’t always feel like a celebration—sometimes, it feels like isolation.
Someone to Look Up To is a visual reckoning with the quiet truth so many driven souls face: the further you rise, the fewer familiar faces you see. Painted in serene yet striking turquoise, this piece centers a child’s gaze—calm, clear, and contemplative—reminding us that even in our highest moments, what we often crave most is connection.
This is not a painting of loneliness—it’s a portrait of understanding. Of feeling the distance between who we are and who we’re becoming, while still holding space for hope, for softness, for someone to recognize the path we’re on. The red that pulses behind the subject symbolizes the fight, the passion, the relentless pursuit of more. But it’s the turquoise wash that calms, as if whispering: “You’re not alone.”
The abstract touches of tan, white, and black become emotional landscapes—grit, reflection, moments of doubt, and the quiet clarity that arrives just before a breakthrough. The subject’s childlike innocence isn’t weakness—it’s honesty. And that honesty reflects back at every viewer who’s ever looked around and wondered if anyone else gets it.
Someone to Look Up To is not a cry for help. It’s a mirror—showing you that while your path may feel solitary, your story is anything but.
18”x24”x1” stretch canvas
Medium: acrylic paint