When the world shuttered in March of 2020, I saw my life — my normalcy — stripped and reduced to a one-bedroom box I called home. Panic-stricken, I turned to a constant in my life: painting. Like millions of others worldwide, revisiting a hobby I sparsely carried out throughout my life revitalized me during the loneliness of quarantine. With no one around, my plants became my muses and shortly thereafter bloomed my “Pandemic Series.”

This series is my attempt to self-soothe alone, grieving what my life used to be. Although, arguably, the pandemic is all but done in the public eye, its legacy has taken a toll in innumerable ways. The sense of control a canvas provided shielded me from the wavering chaos outside of my front door. In art, I manifested a brighter future through color and foliage. After all, to find nature is to find peace.