pəˈrād (parade)
This is my parade, and we dance in the rain.
- Emily Minor

When I was young, I often drew a sketch of rain drops falling beneath an umbrella. Along side it were always the words, "Rain on my parade, it's already ruined anyways". For years these two sad reflections appeared in my sketchbooks, always the same, until this year. The urge to draw the umbrella reappeared in August, but in a new way. This time the drops surrounded the umbrella, though they still trickle underneath, and the words read, "This is my parade, and we dance in the rain". This powerful change has been a long process. I put the work in to have a deeper understanding of myself this year which has allowed so many other areas of my life to fall into place. When I started this painting today I went into it with an open mind. When I saw it complete, it made me cry. This painting is absolutely the closest that I could ever get to actualizing the emotions that this little poem about a parade carries. There will always be rain, but learning to play in it will forever be one of my favorite lessons.