People sometimes ask me what Warrior actually means, since the title alone can read a dozen different ways. For me it's specific. Warrior is my own story of going after my dreams and fighting for a lifestyle I truly believe can make me happy, even on the days the people closest to me weren't sure it would.
My father was one of those people. For a long time, he worried I couldn't actually make a living from art. Not because he didn't believe in me exactly, but because he knew how hard that road can be, and he didn't want to watch me struggle. I understood where it came from. That didn't make it easier to hear. And it made me doubt myself A LOT.
There were plenty of days I wondered if he had a point. Painting doesn't come with a guaranteed paycheck. There's no clear ladder to climb, no obvious next step that tells you you're doing it right. Most of the proof that you're on the right path only shows up after you've already committed to it, which is a strange kind of faith to ask of yourself.
Warrior came out of that. Purple pushing against yellow, intensity against calm, and in the middle of it, a face that refuses to look away. I didn't paint her to look comfortable. I painted her the way it actually feels to keep choosing a harder, less certain path because you believe in it: confident on the outside, still working it out on the inside, done asking anyone for permission to want what she wants.
I think that's the part people relate to more than the colors or the brushwork. Almost everyone has a version of this fight somewhere in their life. A job they're scared to leave. A dream they've quietly shelved because someone they love thinks it's impractical. A version of happiness they've talked themselves out of because it looked inconvenient on paper.
What's changed since I painted her is that the fight itself has started to feel less like a fight. Joining Sociedade Nacional de Belas Artes helped, being around other artists who take the work seriously made it easier to take my own seriously too. My confidence has grown a lot since. I still have days the doubt creeps back in. What's different now is what I do with it: I go paint, or I go to the ocean, and I remember why I started.
Warrior is my reminder, and maybe now yours, that fighting for a life that actually makes you happy isn't reckless, and it isn't a phase you're supposed to grow out of. Some days it just means getting back up and doing the next thing anyway, with or without anyone's blessing.
The original painting is one of a kind, once it's gone, there isn't another, and it's also available as a fine art print if you'd rather bring home a smaller piece of the same fight. The original Warrior painting is still here.