September 11, 2001. I was 17 years old and a senior in high school.
I remember the fear and disbelief of that day vividly. But I also remember what followed—the flags everywhere, the pride, and a sense of unity that felt almost tangible.
I was old enough to understand that the world had changed, but too young to understand the full weight of what would follow.
Looking back, I think something shifted in me too. The feeling of being invincible gave way to fear, and my choices became safer, more practical, more focused on the path I thought I should take.
This painting holds both memories for me: the darkness of that day and the complicated beauty of the unity that followed.
Twenty-five years later, I’m still thinking about what it means to be American, how a single day can change the direction of a life, and how much of who we become is shaped by the moments we never could have prepared for.
