This painting brought something new into the process: real conflict.

My kids created the base layer, and we hung it up for a few days. It became part of our home—something we all got attached to. When it was time to cover it, they pushed back. We argued. We cried. I couldn’t find a compromise, and it hurt.

In the moment of covering I decided to write, I’m sorry.

Not just for the painting, but for the tension it brought. For not having better answers in the moment. But also… for caring that deeply.

The final piece isn’t perfect. But neither is love. It’s layered, emotional, and sometimes messy. What matters is that we keep showing up. That we try to understand each other. Because when we do, we can get through anything—together.