03/02/2026
This was the first painting I created in Florida.
And the first one I signed as Magnolia.
It is nearly five feet tall.
I did not choose a small canvas to begin again.
There comes a moment in a woman’s life
when she no longer shrinks
to make others comfortable.
This piece was that moment.
Water flows behind her — not as chaos, but as baptism.
The leopard watches — not as danger, but as claimed power.
A green parrot crosses the sky — color without apology.
Magnolias open — rooted, luminous, unafraid.
This was not painted quietly.
It was painted at scale.
At body height.
At presence.
Florida light does not whisper.
It reveals.
And under that light, I chose my name.
Magnolia.
Not as softness.
As sovereignty.
This painting marks the threshold
between surviving
and standing.
It remains one of my signature pieces
because it holds the exact moment
I stopped reducing myself.
Some names are given.
Some are claimed.
— Magnolia
