When my college girlfriend moved to Denmark, she left behind all of her art supplies—remnants from her pursuit of an art major that she abandoned for engineering. I kept them, lugging them around from apartment to apartment, with the intention of one day putting them to use. After years of cohabitation, the accumulation of guilt from their disuse finally drove me to take action. My new year's resolution would be to take up painting. So, starting in 2016, I did.

I had no idea what I was doing, but I just went for it. I'm still experimenting and learning and finding my "voice", but ultimately I only create art that I would want to see hanging on a wall in my home.

My mom was a professional muralist. I grew up surrounded by her art, but I never tried painting, myself. People tell me that if she were still alive today she would be very proud of my work. But I honestly don't know that if she were then I would be painting. In a way, the loss of her art motivated me to want to make my own, and I feel closest to her when I'm painting.

- Matthew