I started painting when I was little, but it took me years to discover what I truly wanted to paint. Once I found it, it was hard to run out of ideas.

What I've learned is that my best paintings often come from some of the hardest seasons of life—heartbreak, healing, loneliness, uncertainty, and chaos. I paint to express those seasons. Sometimes I don't realize what I'm painting until much later. Looking back, I can see that my subconscious was always finding a way to bring hidden things into the light.

People often ask why I don't accept commissions. The truth is, time is limited and I want to spend it bringing to life the things that are already in my heart.

For a long time, I kept my artwork private. I thought being humble meant staying hidden. I struggled to receive compliments and never learned how to view encouragement as motivation. Eventually, my paintings began to fill every corner of my home, buried away where no one could see them.

One day my sister told me, "God gave you a gift, and what you do with that gift is your gift back to Him."

I kept hearing that message over and over.

I struggled with the idea of sharing my work, but eventually I realized that I had to share it and sometimes that meant letting it leave my hands and find a home with someone else. While I wish I could give everything away, painting requires time, resources, and heart. Selling my work allows me to continue creating and sharing what God has placed inside me.

The million-dollar question has always been: How do you make time to paint when life is so demanding?

Like most people, I balance a full-time job and the responsibilities of everyday life. I still don't have the perfect answer. For now, I simply show up. I stand in front of the canvas and trust God with the rest.

My paintings carry pieces of my heart, my experiences, and the hope I want to share with others.

Jesus saved my life. Without Him, I would not have the opportunity to do what I do with my eyes, my hands, my mind, and my heart. Painting is more than a hobby to me. It is an act of worship.

My hope is that when you look at my work, you are reminded that your pain is not in vain, that there is beauty in your story, and that there is always hope.

I am an ordinary person. I'm shy. I have two dogs, a sister I love deeply, and parents who have supported me through life's ups and downs. I love chocolate croissants, making espresso on my Breville machine, and training jiu-jitsu.

Painting isn't something I do for fun. It's something that makes me feel alive. It's something I have to do.

Maybe God uses ordinary people to do extraordinary things.

I'm still figuring it all out.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for supporting my work. I hope my art encourages you to live fully, love deeply, and never give up hope.

— Carmen Trujillo