This painting is a testament to all the progress I’ve made in my painting journey in just a few years. As someone with a “late start” to the world of painting, I often find myself lamenting where I could be if my creativity were encouraged at a younger age. The talent of my peers is enviable and I find myself too often comparing myself or putting my own talent down. But if painting has taught me anything, it’s the true value of patience. In the traditional nursery rhyme “Monday’s Child,” it reads “Thursday’s Child has far to go.” In many ways, the journey to having the skill level I desire is long and laborious — in many ways, the journey is beautiful and rewarding. I’m more than glad to have chosen patience when my materials were no more than a simple sketchbook and a 24-pack of Crayola colored pencils because today I can consider myself a painter.

When I was creating this piece, my “why” behind my creative journey was heavy on my heart. I was thinking of all the turmoil in the world and where my own voice fit into this. I thought of my ancestors, a long background of Black women, and the saying “sick and tired of being sick and tired.” As this piece came together I felt it reflected back to me the faces of countless Black women tired beyond compare yet still showing up to the day or the battle with their heads up. I saw the exhaustion and yet something else, the discovery of a deeply held resilience and power.

I encourage anyone viewing this painting to listen to the song “Wednesday’s Child” by Alice Smith. I paint from a place of beauty and pain mixed in a way not unique to any person of color. I hope that paintings such as this can inspire us to not forget ourselves in this chaotic world and still show up to our gifts with a fierce gratitude.