The child in this piece faces away from the viewer, offering no expression and no explanation. What remains visible is the small companion held close—a worn teddy bear that has traveled through fear, comfort, loneliness, imagination, and safety.
For many of us, the objects themselves were never the point.
They were placeholders for courage.
They sat beside us through dark rooms, unfamiliar nights, difficult homes, and uncertain days. They absorbed fears too large for a child to understand and transformed them into something that could be held.
The child looks forward.
The bear looks back.
One continues into the future while the other remains behind as a witness to where that journey began.
Built entirely through layered, restless lines, the drawing mirrors the way memory behaves. Nothing appears clean or permanent. Forms emerge from chaos, overlap with one another, and refuse to separate completely. The image becomes less about a specific child and more about the traces childhood leaves behind.
This work is not about nostalgia.
It is about the quiet persistence of innocence.
The part of ourselves that once believed comfort could be carried in our arms, and that somehow still remembers how.
Built from what didn't let go.
Held together through discipline.
Nothing erased. Everything carried.
Faith is endured, not claimed.
