My creative process begins from what I call “thought trains,” streams of imagination where reflection, memory, and faith intersect. Sometimes during prayer, the Holy Spirit meets me on these trains, where ideas arrive not fully formed, but gently revealed.

1122312519 originated from a vision in which I approached Jesus, confessing my struggles to Him. I then shifted from a mindset of release to receptivity, preparing to ask a series of questions, each written on a strip of paper. The first was simple: Do you love me? Like passing notes in grade school, I handed Him the paper with “Yes” and “No” as the options. When He returned the note, He had added a third answer: Always, written and circled in His blood.

The image speaks to a shared human vulnerability. There are moments when we question whether we are truly heard, chosen, or loved. The answer offered here is not loud, but gentle and true, one that remains even when forgotten. Over time, familiarity can cause meaning to fade; the “note” set aside among the clutter of daily life, until it is rediscovered.

1122312519 is a personal reminder of God’s goodness and steadfast love, extended to me despite my shortcomings, my past actions, conditions I’ve endured, words I’ve spoken, and who I’ll become. Holding that truth, I’m also reminded of my responsibility to love others with the same grace I’ve received.

Formally, my work explores trompe l’oeil, giving the illusion of depth within a 2D surface. Conceptually, I make visual reminders that invite viewers to pause and reconsider what they may have quietly set aside. This piece marks the beginning of that direction and was made in collaboration with God. Prayer functioned not merely as inspiration, but embodied attunement, obedience, and gratitude as an active part of my making process.

Romans 8:35–39 explains the permanence of God’s love, listing circumstances and forces that often provoke fear; doubt; or distance, and declaring that nothing (seen and unseen) has the power to separate us from Him. My piece centers on a persistent human wondering: Am I truly loved? The answer, “Always,” echoes the author, Paul’s, conviction that God’s love is not conditional, temporary, or dependent on our understanding or confidence.

The passage does not deny the reality of uncertainty; instead, it places it within a larger truth. My piece reflects how vulnerability often surfaces through quiet, honest questions. The act of asking whether one is loved or not, reveals a deeply human impulse to seek reassurance, especially in moments of weakness, in acts of transgression. Although Paul acknowledges suffering (v. 35-36), his words in verses 37-39 provide clarity. God’s love is fixed, unwavering, committed, independent of emotional state, or circumstance.

The idea that nothing can separate us from The Lord’s love parallels the visual concept of the piece as a reminder. Even when the “note” is forgotten, misplaced, or set aside, its message remains unchanged. Paul does not speak about God’s love as something that must be maintained or earned. It does not diminish with neglect or familiarity; it persists, waiting to be rediscovered. This mirrors the intention of the piece as a reminder, one that gently calls attention back to the truth that remains even when it slips from awareness.