In 2018 I tore the ACL in my right knee while playing soccer. With little mobility during my nine-month recovery, I began to practice long periods of silent meditation. Eventually I felt like I was hearing a voice from deep within telling me to paint. I hadn’t painted for twenty years, so I dismissed it at first. But it persisted, and more instructions followed. “Paint what you know. Paint large canvases. Paint people. Paint people you know and people you haven’t yet met. Paint twelve paintings.”

Over time, in conversation with this voice, I began to trust it. Work with it. My meditation practice supported me in creating a relationship with myself and what I would now call “inner wisdom.” Working with it like intuition, I eventually picked up my brushes and started painting. But why I was selecting the people I was painting, and the idea for this body of work to become a public exhibit, was not revealed until much later.

In 2019, as a cohort member of Lead Now Pittsburgh, the idea started to find more form. While participating in the Art of Leadership Program at The Rockwood Institute in California, sponsored by Leadership Pittsburgh. One of the prompts was to create a mission statement for a project, a set of values, my work, or something else. The prompt also invited us to pick a mantra as a way to help stay focused on our mission. Responding to this prompt was when I first wrote down all the inner dialogue I was having months before.

When we completed our individual statements, we were invited to stand and share it with the group so our peers could help hold us accountable in seeing our work through. We each had five minutes to present.

I remember that I presented last. Mine was the only mission statement that wasn’t about the organization I worked for. Mine was about me. A mission statement that brought together my creativity, purpose, and Spirit. In those five minutes, I felt like I was being channeled, just like in meditation. Something else was moving me, my words came from some deeper place.

I intuitively removed a painting from the wall and hung it on an easel and sat down in front of it. The picture faced everyone behind me, and I was facing the picture. I looked deeply at it for a few seconds and then turned to the group and spoke….

“I remember when I was little, looking at pictures of people and wondering what they were thinking,” I said. “And later when I was an art student, I fell in love with paintings, especially portraits. I wondered, if they could talk, what they might say? What were they feeling? What have they been through? What is their relationship to the painter? How would they feel to know that I was looking at their portrait now? Whenever I’m in front of a painting, something spiritual happens. The longer I stand in front of it, the deeper the energy mixes with mine and it feels like a kind of conversation through time. Even though the paintings were made hundreds of years ago, there is something immediate and alive going on that I can’t explain, but I feel it and it makes me feel good… whole… connected.”

I continued with clarity and confidence.

“My mission is to create portraits of people. People I know, and people I will meet. Big, beautiful paintings. Colorful paintings. The most beautiful paintings that I can paint. To honor them. I’ll paint them all in different lights (outdoor light, indoor light, summer light, etc.). But the paintings won’t just be about this type of light. I’ll invite the people in the paintings to speak. To share their own stories. Stories that illuminate another kind of light… an invisible light… a light that is inside each of us and connects us. A light that lights our way even in the darkest of times. The title of this project will be, Another Light.”

I concluded with the mantra I created for myself so that I would always remember that inner light. Not only for this project, but for each person I meet. And for myself.

“Shine, baby, shine!”

With the permission of each person I painted (several of whom I met as part of the Lead Now Pittsburgh cohort) I began to share the paintings online. This was during the pandemic, so the thought of an in-person exhibit still hadn’t crossed my mind. To invite the viewer into my process, I also began sharing process photos and videos, and offered live interviews with some of the people in the paintings.

Then in 2021 while playing soccer, I tore my other ACL—the one in my left knee. And that’s when I realized I would be the subject of the final painting in this body of work. In 2022 I completed my self-portrait and began to conceive the public exhibition that you see here today. My inner voice continued, “Set up the paintings in a circle. Offer free meditation session and invite other participants to lead healing experiences for the communities they serve and the community at large.” I started writing concept papers, created a budget, and began seeking funds to bring this idea to life in the world. Not as an “art show,” but as an experience—”making space for healing.” In 2024, with an executive sabbatical grant, I decided to self-fund this exhibit.

In hindsight I feel like my ACL tears were karmic accidents. And the journey from paintings to project to public exhibit was for me a seven-year Spirit journey. I have deep gratitude for each of the participants that have journeyed along the way with me, been in relationship with me, and shared their stories and consent.

Gratitude
In addition to the people I painted, I also want to thank the many other individuals and organizations who helped shape me, encouraged me, and continue to support me. This includes Leadership Pittsburgh, my coaching circle and other executive coaches, my Buddhist teachers, the Dharma, and sanghas (spiritual communities) that I’m privileged to be part of.

Special thanks to Marc Rettig of okaythen.net who provided production support to this exhibit including helping me give voice (literally) to each person in the project. This exhibit is so much richer as a result. Thanks also to Michelle Clesse and the Union Project board of directors and staff for helping me create and execute a plan to shift my attention between my work and my creative practices. I could not have done this without you all.

Thank you to my wife Holly, our kids, and our cats. They support me (even when I doubt myself) in so many loving ways, regardless of whether this project would have ever become a public exhibit.

And finally, I dedicate this exhibit to my parents. Beyond their belief in me, their authentic interest in people, ability to talk to anyone and put people at ease was a wonderful model to follow. I also dedicate this to Toye Starver (former UP board member) who always urged me to teach, and to share my artwork at Union Project.

I could never have imagined how much life would spring from this journey. So much transformation and transcendence. It’s truly difficult to put into words. This project has blessed me and continues to bless me in so many ways. May it bless you too.