In the Lap of Love

Before we ever understand the word home, perhaps we know it as a feeling.

A lap to fall asleep in.
An arm around us.
A place where, for a little while, nothing else needs our attention.

In the Lap of Love is a quiet study of that kind of tenderness. A mother holds her child close beneath a canopy of leaves, their bodies folding naturally into one another as though the rest of the world has softened around them.

There is something almost moonlit about the scene — still, protective and deeply familiar.

For me, this painting is less about motherhood alone and more about being held. About the rare spaces in life where we can simply exist without having to explain, perform or be anything other than ourselves.

Perhaps that is why some forms of love always feel a little like returning home.