I painted this piece after taking a really long break from my artwork—we’re talking years. It happened during the early days of the pandemic when everything had come to a halt. Like some, I suddenly found myself working from home. Even though my work hours stayed busy, the pace of life slowed down. Without the daily commute or constant rush, there was space—mentally and physically.
So, I started tackling those long-postponed to-do lists: organizing closets, decluttering drawers and closets… I even included doing something creative on that list.
Even though I hadn’t yet started my Reiki training (which was supposed to begin the week after everything shut down), something in me needed to create. I don’t even remember what reference I used—but I just picked up the brush and started. And this little songbird appeared.
The soft blues and purple felt calming, peaceful. I do remember it had just finished raining, and I could hear birds chirping outside. That’s how Songbird of Hope got its name.
At first, I thought the shutdown might last a few weeks. But as weeks turned into months and the weight of uncertainty grew heavier, this painting took on new meaning. That little bird felt like a message—a quiet, persistent symbol of hope.
Birds have always carried meaning in stories and symbols—freedom, resilience, the arrival of something new. For me, this one became a sign that beauty still exists in hard times, that creativity can bloom even in uncertainty. And painting it reminded me that I was still an artist—that part of me didn’t go anywhere, it just needed to be awakened.
This little bird became a symbol of peace and possibility in a time full of unknowns. A gentle reminder that even when things feel heavy, hope still sings—and sometimes, that’s all we need to get through the hard days.
