“I used to think the magic of Walt Disney World lived only in the moment—until I started painting it. Those trips for our family, those nights together making life-long memories, they stuck with me, and my art became a way to hold onto them.

When i began the preliminary work for painting Cinderella’s Castle I frequently planted myself on the really green grass of the Main Street hub. I held my iPad Pro steady on my lap as I sketched the early work for that beautiful Castle that loomed ahead like a faded postcard. My family knows, whenever I’m in the Magic Kingdom I always have to have an "I Lava You Float" (that wonderful strawberry fizz with DOLE Whip Orange and pop rocks goodness). As for the Castle, I’ve loved it since I was a kid, and I love painting and drawing it. And I still love hearing the melody of “A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes” when near it.

I have probably visited the Magic Kingdom more than I should; many times my wife and our grown kids come along. Being together in the sights and sounds of the park bring back those nights when we’d stretch the magic past park’s closing. On my last visit, I lingered as well, in the soft lights of Main Street, painting the Castle’s glow in rough lines until my tablet battery gave out (long after the crowds drifted out after the fireworks show). I love the sweet aroma of the Confectionery’s delights and the memory-making smell of popcorn (how can you not get at least ONE bucket of popcorn?). Those things, of course, make that familiar ‘park-leaving ache’ worsen as the Magic Kingdom recedes into the horizon from the deck of Admiral Joe Fowler.

This magical longing is what I tried to infuse into my monochromatic Cinderella’s Castle painting—grays and blacks. I brought this digital painting to life in my studio, hunching over the iPad on the drafting table next to my easel, surrounded by scattered prints of my early sketches and those precious location-reference photos I captured myself. It’s a piece for us Disney diehards, those of us who feel that tug deep in our chests; I’d love for it to stir that sweet, familiar ache in you too.”