There’s something so human here...so profoundly disarming...that you almost miss the historical weight of it. Two men walk side by side in the streets of Nauvoo. Not with ceremony or guarded reverence, but with ease. With warmth. As equals.
This is Joseph Smith and Elijah Abel...not just prophet and priesthood holder, but brothers in a moment of unguarded camaraderie. You can feel the dust of the path beneath them, the late light glancing off the river, the simple truth that they are together in something larger than themselves.
The brushstrokes aren’t overly precious...because this isn’t a painting meant to be admired from a distance. It’s meant to be felt. The house behind them is lit from within, suggesting life, community, a movement in progress. The path forward is golden, but not without its shadows. Their posture—arms slung comfortably across each other’s shoulders...quietly reframes a narrative that has too often been told without both voices.
This is about Priesthood and Brotherhood. It’s a portrait of inclusion not as an afterthought, but as the very heart of the journey.
