When I paint Mary, I am trying to make visible something that is, strictly speaking, invisible: the grace that fills her, the love she bears for each one of us, the tenderness of a mother who has never taken her eyes off her children. None of that can be photographed. None of it can be proven in an argument. But it can, by the grace of God and the patient work of a painter, be seen. And not just observed, but entered.

She is the masterpiece. She is what human life looks like when it holds nothing back from the Divine Artist, when it offers the full canvas of its freedom and says, “Do with me what you will.”The result – as every painter who has tried to paint her eventually discovers – exceeds everything we could have planned or invented.

THE ROSES
The roses remind us of her purity, her sinlessness, her beauty unmarred by the stain of original sin.  The roses serve as a reminder of what she is: full of grace from the first moment of her existence.

These roses ask us a question: How do we foster these same virtues? When we "lift up our hearts" to her, she helps us have hearts that are naked but unashamed, and as Pope Francis said, not needing foliage to hide ourselves.

She teaches us to be authentic before God the Master, laying down that essential primer of humility on the canvas of our life so that God can begin his work of renewal.

THE SCAR
This is not a sentimental portrait. If you look more closely at the heart, you will see a scar. Simeon's prophecy told her that "a sword will pierce your heart." What a mixed palette of sorrows and graces that presentation in the temple must have been for her. She knew, even then, that her joy would be inseparable from suffering.

We know that it wasn’t a real sword that pierced her; it was the sword of sorrow she felt out of the love she had for her Son. The spear that pierced His heart on Calvary pierced her soul. The scar we see in art is that invisible wound made visible so that we remember it.

Theologians tell us something remarkable: Mary's greatest glory was not being crowned Queen of Heaven. Her greatest glory was standing at the foot of the cross. We stand with her in that same glory when we do the same in prayer, including the sorrowful mysteries.

THE EYES
Because it was through Mary that He entered the world, I chose to have Mary looking directly at us. That was a deliberate decision - a theological decision, expressed in paint. These eyes do not look away, do not gaze inward or upward in private rapture. They see us. These eyes see our needs, our “no wine” moments, like at the wedding at Cana.  She is profoundly sensitive, alert, and attentive…and completely in Jesus. 

She turns to us with the same confidence with which she turned to the servants at Cana…“Do whatever he tells you.” The saints have always taught, "To Jesus through Mary." St. Louis de Montfort calls her the safest, easiest, shortest, and most perfect way of approaching Jesus.

THE FLAME
Above the heart, you see the flame, intentionally shaped like a dove. This is the Holy Spirit, signifying her adoration of her Son, as well as all of her children. In Medjugorje, Mary reminded us that she loves each and every one of us as much as she loves her Son, Jesus. She said, "If you knew how much I loved you, you would cry of joy."

How do we respond to this overwhelming love? If you are anything like me, you will feel inadequate. Our only hope is to be empowered by the Holy Spirit to respond with gratitude. There is no chance of imitating her love unless we receive grace. We, too, can ask for moments like those on the road to Emmaus, when we feel our hearts burn with Christ’s presence.  Saint Bonaventure advises us to pray for "a raging fire of love." Mary will teach us how to surrender to the Flame.