This piece is part three in a series and was commissioned by the owner of part two, Letter to the Present. To fully understand the story behind this piece, I recommend reading my previous blog, Letter to the Future.

This artwork is aptly titled Letter to the Builders, as throughout the process of creating this concept with my collector, I came to understand the weight he carries on his shoulders regarding the environment and his personal responsibility toward it. No matter how good-willed he is, how hard he works, or the constraints placed upon him by his circumstances, it always comes back to the individual to make the changes the world needs. On most occasions, the individual is granted very little thanks for their efforts, even when the task is monumental.

Originally, I started with an image of a duck turning to stone and fading away like sand in an hourglass, but this represented the negative side of the issue. Shifting away from that idea sent me on a whole new creative voyage. It brought me to a new level of hope and inspired an especially fun painting concept to explore.

In this piece, my character bears the weight of the world on his shoulders, weathering the storm alone and dragging the rest of us to a better place by leading through example. His journey has taken him across seas and through storms, but he’s finally reached new shores. His actions lead others to safety. However, he still has to convince everyone to follow him, represented by the rope around the first duck's neck, symbolizing the gentle nudge we sometimes need. Once he succeeds, the rest follow.

The small boat leading the huge duck is designed to express the enormity of the task at hand.

So many innovators experience this feeling every day: a constant battle to show the world there is another way. The comment that has always stuck with me, and has proven true time and time again, is, "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." Those who roll up their sleeves often face both love and ridicule at the same time, which is never an easy pill to swallow. One way or another, that individual has to keep going.

A thought I’d like to share from my own experience, and why this piece means so much to me, is the deep admiration I have for anyone in this world fighting to make change. It’s not about whether they are right or wrong but about acknowledging their willingness to put an idea out there and sacrifice money, health, and time in the hope that the idea will be adopted.

I was once in this position. My tech company, Direct2Artist, was the culmination of my experience in the arts, built with a team of brilliant people trying to find a way to amplify my personal mission: helping as many artists as possible achieve their dreams of success. Ultimately, we failed, but not for lack of trying.

The experience hardened me significantly. I started out bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to save the art world one artist at a time. I created this because it was what I had needed during my own growth as an artist: an all-in-one system that educated, provided tech solutions, and guided artists into action that would lead to sales, often without them even realizing it. I took no pay for a long time, spent all my savings, and, in the end, nearly ruined myself, financially, mentally, and physically.

Hearing this, you might think my actions were altruistic, that I was out to save the world—and I was—but not everyone saw it that way. I faced ridicule, hate, and even lost friends. It was one of the most confusing times in my life because all I wanted to do was help.

This brings me back to my point: my admiration for innovators and why much of my art focuses on these kinds of people. For those working to better humanity, the human race often pushes back hard. To weather that storm is an enormous responsibility. I consider myself a strong individual, but not as strong as I would need to be to effect massive change.

Toward the end of Direct2Artist, I felt a shift in myself that scared me. I stopped caring for a while. I felt like an old man in a rocking chair on a porch, shotgun in hand, yelling at kids to get off his lawn. That isn’t who I am, but I was slowly becoming that. Thankfully, I pulled myself out of that cycle, and I still love to help whenever I get the chance.

My admiration isn’t always for the individual's idea, but for their courage to stand up and act—knowing full well that ridicule will hit them like a freight train.

This world can be crazy, but it’s these individuals who I am honoring in this piece. They are the ones who will ensure humanity carries on for thousands of years.