“Red Balloon” is a painting I felt compelled to create—one of those rare pieces that demanded to exist.

The setting is almost dreamlike: a lush pergola overflowing with white hydrangeas in full bloom, so abundant it borders on surreal. Amid this visual abundance stands a small boy—my son, Everett—seemingly unaware of the beauty surrounding him.

When Everett was diagnosed with autism at age three, I began to see the world differently. In this painting, he stands quietly in a moment of stillness, caught between two realms: the intricate, complex world within his mind, and the blooming, vibrant world around him that doesn’t always make space for difference.

The hydrangeas symbolize his inner thoughts—swirling, mysterious, all-consuming. The red balloon, a nearly-forgotten emblem of childhood joy, floats lightly in his hand, on the verge of drifting away. It hints at both innocence and detachment.

This painting is not about sadness, but presence. About beauty coexisting with otherness. And about honoring the quiet, brilliant lives that bloom just outside the noise of the "real" world.