Ten days ago, I said goodbye to my soul dog, Leo.

On September 3, my constant companion of twelve years passed away after a long and difficult illness. There are no words big enough for what he meant to me, and no easy way to explain the ache of an absence that follows you everywhere. The world feels different now. My days are quieter. And yet, everywhere I turn, Leo is still here.

He’s in the studio where he kept me company for countless hours. He’s in every walk we shared, every brushstroke he watched me lay down. He’s in the art I’ve made and the love that shaped it. Leo was more than a dog. He was joy, loyalty, gentleness, warmth—and a love so deep it softened everything.

He wasn’t just a dog. He was my shadow, my comfort, my joy, and my home. He walked beside me through every season of life—through grief and change, through discovery and growth. He was there for every sketch, every painting, every late night in the studio. His calm energy and deep love shaped not just my life, but my art. I truly believe he helped me become the artist—and person—I am today.

Creating right now feels harder than it ever has, but I know that art is how I will carry him forward. Through all the grief, there is a kind of quiet purpose that remains. Leo was with me through every transformation—personal and creative—and now, he is part of everything I’ll make from here on. His spirit is still here: in the work, in the memories, in my heart. When he left, it felt like a part of me went with him.
As someone once wrote:
“We both died that day, but only you stopped breathing”.

To everyone who has checked in, sent love, or simply held space for my grief—thank you. Your kindness has helped me carry this loss.