A Fleeting Moment That Refused to Fade

A moment that cheered me up so unexpectedly… it stayed with me for the rest of my life.

I remember one of Phoenix’s monthly Third Friday Art Walks—my favorite night of the month. Sure, I loved selling my work, but what I really craved was the conversation: art lovers, fellow artists, strangers. And they’d tell me what they felt about my work—unfiltered, for better or worse. I had set up a booth that night, with originals and prints, including one of my most popular pieces: Cat in Blue City—a black-and-white cat floating in endless shades of blue, that I had photographed some years back in Chefchaouen, Morocco.

Then, at one point, a young woman stopped to inspect it. “Hi—did you ever have this up at ASU’s downtown campus?” she asked.

A while earlier, Arizona State University had invited me to exhibit at their downtown School of Business. My works were on display there, and this was one of the pieces that had been hanging there for months. She told me she was an undergrad who had classes on that floor—and she loved the piece so much she’d arrive early just to sit on the couch beside it. Before exams, she’d go there to calm her nerves, letting that feline and those blues do their quiet magic. One day, she said, the picture was no more—someone had taken it down. She’d genuinely mourned it. And she never imagined she’d run into it again—standing right there at an art walk.

That’s the night it really hit me: you can make something on a solo trip halfway across the world… and it can end up becoming someone else’s sanctuary. That’s the quiet power of creating—moving hearts and minds across boundaries, without ever asking permission.

That’s the night it really hit me: a cat from my solo trip to Africa could truly end up as someone else’s sanctuary. Such is the quiet power of creating—moving hearts and minds across boundaries and nationalities.