That summer, I took ink to paper. The result was a series of black-and-white illustrations in India ink, exploring the isolation we feel in our darkest moments: the rumination, the self-talk, the quiet effort it takes to keep moving forward.

Once half the series was done, I gathered all the gusto I could muster, hopped on the bus, and walked down Bank Street in Ottawa, popping into every restaurant and store I thought might host an art show. Lots of no's, a few maybes, and finally, a yes from the owners of Makita Kitchen Bar.

From there, it was all about getting people through the door. I created Facebook and Instagram ads to spread the word and build a little hype around the show, while getting prints ready to sell on the night.

And then it happened—a sold-out show, a room filled with some of my favourite people, and every print sold.

It’s a night I still think about: a reminder that sometimes the smallest dreams are the ones worth going after.