Raised in the deep South, my dad picked cotton, dug potatoes and sawed timber in the hot Alabama summer months to make money. He’d saunter passed chapel after chapel down dusty red clay roads to those sweltering summer jobs, all the while signing hymns of praise. I’m grateful for my dad’s legacy of spiritual roots that steep my soul in truth. 1

12x12 acrylic on canvas.

Prints and cards available HERE.