This piece is about belonging. And hope. And the sacred weight of showing up together.
In "United: Sunday Meant Something to Us," I wanted to honor the kind of unity that doesn’t come easily—but comes beautifully when it does. This is a crowd of both Black and white Americans, gathering not in division but in shared reverence. For faith, yes—but also for healing. For dignity. For community.
The church at the center is symbolic, of course—but it’s also literal. Because for so many generations, Sunday was the only space where people dressed in their finest, stood shoulder to shoulder, and remembered they were more than the world tried to tell them. It was a declaration. That we are here. That we are together. That this moment means something.
I kept the tones soft—rose, umber, smoke—to make space for memory. This isn’t a photograph. It’s a feeling. There’s no spotlight on one figure, because the power isn’t in the individual—it’s in the collective. In the mix of skin tones, hats, hands, postures of reverence and resolve. I wanted to paint what it looks like when humanity shows up in harmony.
This is not a painting about perfection. It’s about presence. It’s about sacred ordinary moments that quietly resist hate, separation, and silence. It’s about unity—not the easy kind, but the kind that’s chosen. Week after week. Step by step. Hymn by hymn.
This is what Sunday meant.
And still means.
