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by Yaeli Vogel

A Decade

A decade As I reflect upon the decade that is now coming to a close, it’s freakin amazing how much a person can actually accomplish. My background is extremely humble and I always wanted more. I never knew how I was going to get it and set out on this dream. I’d watch Shark Tank every single week, religiously. Trying and thinking of business idea after business idea. Each time there was a reason why not. I was relentless about my ideas. I then opened up an arts and crafts business called Glitter and Glue. It was so much fun but I had no way of scaling it, got burnt out and shut it down. I tried making headbands, walking into stores and selling them. That worked but my heart wasn’t in it. (Clearly that was a factor!) I did summer camps for kids. That was ultimate burnout. Crossed it off the list! I thought of idea after idea and I remember laying down on my apartment floor thinking how in the world was I ever going to buy a house?! I had no savings, couldn’t rely on my parents or in laws financially and trying to make each month. All while being a part time teacher. Teaching was great. Kids are my first love and it’s so refreshing hanging out with them. But I disliked the work vs pay. For the amount of work I was putting in, I wasn’t being significantly appreciated. I knew it in the depths of my heart and it bothered me. When I told my boss - the principal, I was leaving, she begged me to reconsider. She told me I had a gift and was talented in teaching. She said “I had it” and if I ever wanted to come back, I could. Honestly, if the teacher salary would have been higher, I would have probably still been doing that right now (and if my artist spirt was dead) But I knew I couldn’t go on teaching. It wasn’t worth my efforts. If I’m in, I’m ALL in. I can’t be half and half. So I stayed home. I was going to be a stay at home mom. (A poor one but at least a happy one;)) Ya, that didn’t last either. I didn’t know to what extent at the time but I’m a doer! Doers need to DO. I had a degree in special ed and applied for a case through an agency. Got the case. That was the next two years. Good. Solid. Can’t complain. Ohhhh but I did! I was SO BORED. Was I just doomed?? Yep. Or That’s what I thought. I then emailed my Rabbi from seminary asking him if this is what life is supposed to feel like - grey and plain...He didn’t respond and I didn’t need him to. I was slowly figuring it out. I had a miscarriage during this time and took out some paints to get me through my thoughts and feelings of the time. I painted one painting every two nights for about three weeks. When the paintings were done, they were GOOD. It was exciting! I then went on to paint my sons shoes, my family at the beach, random scenery, and gifts for anyone I knew. I went outside and painted the water. I started to dabble. I’d go to my case in the mornings, come home and paint. Sometimes I’d stop in Michaels on the way home for supplies. The “greyness” was disappearing! I remember telling a colleague at work that I’d love to start a business ONE DAY...and that if I’d ever leave special ed that’s what I’d do. Ohhh, watch your words! Be careful what you wish for...!! But as it goes one step backwards, 20 steps forwards....September came along. They let me go. There was no cases for me - aka - I was fired. Breathing. Breathing. Not breathing. Why was I going to do? No monthly income. Omg. Nothing to rely on?! HOW? WERE? WE? GOING? TO? MAKE? IT? I called my husband, unable to speak through my tears and he said - tzadik of a human - were going to be fine, this is the best thing that ever happened to you. You’re going to paint. You’ll see. So I took a deep breath, and began painting. ALL IN. I was a starving artist, in the very essence of the word. I never went shopping. Not even for food. I’d buy art supplies before it. I saved all my dollars. I’d make leftovers for supper and then use the leftovers for leftovers. I was on a mission. I didn’t care what anyone thought. I’d make aluminum pans out of silver foil. I wouldn’t drive much so no need for that much gas. That’s how calculated I became. (It was the best for me to learn, since I’m naturally a big spender. I’ll never forget what I learned) I learned that every dollar equals $100. Think before you spend. Don’t use three tissues if you can use one. Things I never thought of before, rose to the surface and became apparent. I wasn’t fanatic by any means, but we were on a tight tight budget = zero. Nada. Lucky for us, our kids were very little and didn’t ask for much then. I never knew how resourceful I was, until I was put to the challenge. (All learned from my mother - watching her while I was growing up) I sewed the hems, cleaned my house, cooked and baked everything myself. And painted. Then came the best part which was free - SOCIAL MEDIA. And I committed to it. I posted each and every day. When you post, you need to have what to post....so I painted each and every day! I gave myself goals. Painting goals, posting goals and followers goals. No one knew me. No daddy with contacts. No mama with contacts. No neighbors with contacts. (Contacts that buy art I mean) I was a complete nobody to anyone outside of my close family and friends. But hey, I had a paintings to sell with a message behind each one, I needed the world to know me! So I virtually knocked on every persons door. I requested to follow them. If they’d see who’s knocking, they just might enjoy the art! I wasn’t embarrassed at all - I was doing them a favor by introducing them to beautiful and moving artwork! I don’t know if it was my mindset or the art, or both, but it worked! People started to jump on board and then word of mouth spread like wild fire. I would sit on my couch every single Sunday for a year and follow people. (Sunday was the day everyone was on) I was painting late passed midnight most nights of the week, building my collection. People were messaging me, asking to view my works and purchase - this was crazy! I would read the messages over and over again, debating if it was real. Omg!!! I had a business growing from under neath me! I hired an agent. He wanted me to sign a contract. I didn’t like the contract. We parted ways. Continued posting. Then collaborating. Got more followers on board. And slowly slowly built myself up. With one sale, I was able to scan a few works. Then put out a print. No one purchased it. So I would put the print option on the site without inventory and print when someone was interested. That worked. Saved and built some more. One giclee turned to two. Some got ruined in shipping. Shipping. That’s a thing. Figure that out. Then websites. Three of them. Build. Build. Build. Paint. Paint. Paint. Schlepping paintings from one private viewing to the next. Those days were hard but good. There’s nothing like building. It’s where all life happens - in the process. So much happened during that time. Ups and downs. Wins and losses. I would celebrate the wins like crazy and learn and try again with the looses. Nothing can come in the way of painting. It’s the air I breath and my world is SO colorful! For years and years I was trying to find the perfect business, and it was staring me dead in the face all along. Many times the thing that we do best, is the thing we should be doing but we can’t imagine it, because we do it so naturally. Why would someone actually pay dollars for this? Because, you are the best. Throughout this entire time, I davened (prayed) and strengthened my emunah with Hashem (G-d). I would close my eyes and envision what I wanted and calmly know that I was in good hands. (And sometimes extremely not calmly.) I’d also attach myself to virtual mentors via YouTube& Google, learning everything I didn’t know. With prayer, histadlus, learning and a lot of hard work, the sky is the limit. (*with the house, since you’re all wondering. We purchased a small tiny starter home back in 2013. We did it with an FHA loan, and put down $11,000. That’s it. With zero savings to back things up. No emergency cash. We would figure it out. Huge risk. It was old and untouched. Slowly, we flipped it ourselves. Ripping up carpets, freshly painting the walls, spray painting kitchen cabinets, tiling the floor, and painting the tub... after four years, we sold the home and moved to our current home.)

by Yaeli Vogel

Cleaning Up

Vibes are real even if we don’t see them. We feel it. We feel when there’s a positive feeling being exuded from someone. There’s a lightness in the air. There can also be a heaviness or uneasy, or negativity going around. We feel that too. What is it? It’s energy vibrations being set out from all of us. What kind of vibes are you putting out into the world? What do you want to world to have more of? How do you want to play your part? By infusing it with your good spirits or the opposite? Use the mask as the opportunity to pause and think. Think of what the world needs more of. Think of what your loved ones need more of, and what you need more of. Good energy. Positive spirits and great vibes! Let’s clean up this world together.

by Yaeli Vogel

Co-Creating Your Life: Feminine Power, Money Mindset, and the Dance of Marriage

Today, as I sat in the studio surrounded by canvases and half-finished paintings, I kept thinking about you. About us. About the quiet, private places inside a woman’s life that so few people really see - marriage, money, faith, fear, our bodies, our longing to feel safe and soft and powerful all at once. I want to write to you a little bit about all of that. We are all the same, just in different bodies Something I feel so deeply is this: we are all so different on the outside… and yet inside, we are almost the same. We carry similar longings and similar fears; we dream of love, safety, beauty, connection, purpose. We wrap these longings in our own personalities, stories, families, traumas - but the core is shared. Because of that, I feel a responsibility to “crack the shell” a little. When one woman shares honestly, we all feel less strange, less broken, less alone. So I want to open a window into my own process - not because I’ve “figured it out,” but precisely because I’m in it with you. Marriage as a mirror: the energetic imbalance I could no longer ignore My marriage, for a long time, looked “fine” from the outside. There was no dramatic crisis. No big blow-up. Just this quiet, subtle imbalance - a feeling that something in the energy was tilted. It took me years to even name it. Looking back, I can see that I was sitting in a very masculine position in the relationship. Not masculine as in “tomboy,” but masculine in energy: taking responsibility for everything, making sure everyone was okay, controlling, smoothing, preventing discomfort at all costs. I was the emotional mother, manager, protector. It came from a good place. I didn’t want anyone to be upset or lacking or uncomfortable. But the result was: I was carrying everything. And when one person sits in that role, it automatically forces the other person into the opposite side of the dance. Relationships are like ballroom dancing - if I keep stepping forward, the other person must step back. If I fill every space, the other person has nowhere to move. At some point, it became too heavy. Not in one dramatic moment - more like a long, dark year. A “dark night of the soul” where I found myself metaphorically curled in a ball, unable to keep dragging the bags of everyone’s emotions and needs and expectations. I realized:I don’t want to sit in this role anymore. That was the beginning. What feminine surrender actually is (and what it is not) When I started softening out of that hyper-responsible role, people would say words like “surrender,” “be in your feminine,” “trust.” And honestly, those words triggered me at first. I want to be very clear about what I don’t mean: Surrender does not mean becoming weak, lazy, or a victim. It does not mean letting your life crash while you passively watch. It does not mean handing your entire emotional regulation to your husband and saying, “You fix me.” True feminine surrender is something much deeper and braver. It is: Creating internal safety: “No matter what happens, I am okay inside my body. I am held by Hashem. I am not abandoning myself.” Allowing someone else to step into their role, because you are no longer frantically gripping it. Trusting - not blindly, but from a grounded place: “I am safe in me, so I don’t need to control every outcome.” You are not surrendering to your husband.You are surrendering to Hashem and to the part of yourself that knows you are inherently safe and worthy. When a woman moves from anxious control into this kind of soft strength, the whole dynamic shifts. Men are not one-dimensional. Many are quietly longing to embody their own healthy masculinity - protective, steady, responsible - but there’s no room for it when we are already doing everything. We don’t change husbands. We change our stance… and the dance reshapes itself. The quiet power of a woman I wish I could put a megaphone to every woman’s heart and tell her: You have no idea how powerful you are. You are not “less.” You are not secondary. You are not a side character in your husband’s story. Your state - your inner weather - affects the entire home. When you are resentful and negative (and we all are sometimes), it feels to him like a black hole that keeps pulling on his energy.When you are genuinely joyful, grateful, calm in yourself - not performing happiness, but rooted - he feels it as sunlight. It doesn’t mean you fake it. It doesn’t mean you stay quiet when something is wrong. It means you start with nourishing your own nervous system, your own joy, your own connection with Hashem. From there, your presence becomes its own form of leadership. If he is the sun, you are the moon.You reflect, soften, shape, and magnify his light back to him.That is not submission. That is co-creation. The year everything broke - and began Around the same time all of this was shifting inside, my outer life cracked, too. I had been working in special ed. It’s a noble field, and I respect those who love it. But I was so bored and drained I would literally watch the clock like a teenager waiting for the bell. The thought that this was “adult life” made my soul sink. Painting, on the other hand, had always been therapy for me. A lifeline. Art was the place I could breathe. There was a moment - I remember it so clearly - when I told my husband, half-joking, “Next year, I am not doing this job.” Because who just walks away from a salary? Apparently… me. When the school year came, my caseload simply didn’t arrive. They told me they had no work for me. We had five dollars in our bank account. No savings. No family who could swoop in and cover us. It was terrifying. And also, strangely, exhilarating. We suddenly had a direct line to Hashem. There was no one else to depend on. My husband said, “This is it. Put all your eggs in your art basket. Go all in.” So I did. I decided: I am an artist. I will paint every day. I will show up online every day. I will treat this like a real business. I will not look back. Every painting sold felt like lightning through my veins. Not because of the money—but because I could feel the combination of my hishtadlus (effort), my tefillah (prayer), and Hashem’s kindness, all braided together. Money mindset: the inner script no one sees My relationship with money did not start in a healthy place. As a child, I learned - without anyone needing to say it outright - that money only comes: If you are desperate enough If you beg enough And even then, it’s barely what you need, and it probably won’t last You get the trip money at the last second, but there is never extra. There is never overflow. There is certainly no ease. That story became a script in my nervous system: “I don’t really deserve it. I’ll get just enough, just in time, and then it’s gone.” When I began building my art business, I found myself searching late at night:“How to build a business. How to make money. How to stop being poor.” Over and over, I stumbled on the same message:Your mindset around money shapes what you allow yourself to receive. Not in a cliché “think positive and a million dollars appears” kind of way.More like: your beliefs create your vessel. They are the shape of the cup you’re handing to Hashem. If your inner cup says: “I’m not worthy.” “There’s never enough.” “If I have, someone else will lack.” “I only get money when I’m desperate.” …then even when abundance is raining, your cup is full of cracks and holes. The shefa (divine flow) is there. The plumbing is blocked. So I began to notice my “money noise” and gently challenge it. What if Hashem isn’t looking to punish me? What if He actually wants me to live with dignity and expansion so I can give more? What if lack is not automatically more spiritual than enough? And another crucial question: What do I really want money for? Very often, when we say “I want more money,” what we actually mean is: I want to feel safe. I want to feel spacious. I want to be generous. I want to have friends at my table. I want beauty. Those feelings are sometimes closer than we think. We can begin embodying them now - within our current walls - while staying open to the physical expansion that may follow. To me, bitachon and “manifestation” are not separate concepts.When I paint with full trust that Hashem will send the right buyers, that act of painting is already an act of bitachon. Co-creating reality (and why comfort can be dangerous) One of the most confronting truths I’ve learned is this: Much of our reality is a mirror of what we deeply (often subconsciously) believe we deserve and what we’re willing to tolerate. This doesn’t explain every tragedy, and it doesn’t mean we blame victims. There are mysteries in the world that are far beyond our understanding. But in the smaller, everyday arenas— - our marriage dynamics, our relationship with money, our career, our self-talk - there is often a clear thread: We stay in patterns because they are familiar, even when they hurt. We cling to victimhood because it feels safer than risking rejection or failure. We would rather stay in a bad comfort zone than walk into the unknown. It is so human. Courage, for me, is simply this:Letting the fear of regret become bigger than the fear of change. The thought of looking back at my life and knowing I never really tried, never really showed up as myself - that is more terrifying to me than the risk of falling on my face. So I choose, again and again, to be a little bit “delusionally” aligned with who I know I can be. To take one step as if I am already her. To walk with Hashem as a partner, not only as an emergency exit. A note on mazal and the stars I’ll just touch this briefly, because it’s a whole letter of its own. I love astrology - not the superficial, fatalistic kind, but the deep, soulful language of mazal. To me, it’s one more map Hashem gave us. A birth chart doesn’t lock you in; it illuminates your starting point. It shows your inclinations, your gifts, your challenges - your spiritual “weather.” It helps you have compassion for yourself, your husband, your children: “Oh, of course she feels things so intensely; look at that Scorpio moon.” It’s not an excuse: “That’s my sign, take it or leave it.”It’s information. A tool for growth. We are always, always above the stars through tefillah and choice. But understanding the energy you swim in can be incredibly validating and clarifying. If you’re hitting a wall right now If any of this is landing for you - if you feel: Over-responsible in your marriage Terrified around money Pulled between craving softness and clinging to control Stuck in a story from your childhood Or simply exhausted from carrying everyone and everything I want you to know: you are not crazy, you are not broken, and you are definitely not alone. You may be at a wall.And as painful as it is, the wall is a gift. It means you cannot keep going the way you’ve been going. Something in you is wise enough to say, “Ad kan. Enough.” You do not have to fix everything today. Maybe your version of courage, for now, is: Admitting to yourself that you’re tired of being the emotional mother to everyone. Allowing yourself to want more- more ease, more love, more money, more beauty- without shaming yourself. Asking Hashem, in your own words: “Either take away this desire, or please, in Your kindness, make a path for it. I don’t want to live in this agony of wanting and not believing it’s possible.” And then taking one small step that aligns with the woman you’re becoming. Wear the metaphorical tichel of the future you.Stop “flying Spirit” in places where it violates how you know your soul wants to live.Let yourself be just a bit more honest, a bit more open, a bit more trusting. I am writing this from a studio that did not exist in my “old” story.From a life that grew out of five dollars, a broken heart, a dark night of the soul, and two things I refused to give up: My belief that Hashem is good,and my belief that I am allowed to build a life that feels like home to my soul. You are allowed that too. A Personal Invitation If you’re reading this and feeling a tug inside - a quiet knowing that you’re ready for more clarity, more softness, more courage, more alignment - I want you to know that I offer 1:1 coaching sessions where we go deeply into this work together. Whether it’s: shifting out of over-responsibility in your marriage unraveling old money stories and welcoming abundance reconnecting with your feminine energy understanding your astrology chart and your soul’s design or simply learning how to feel safe inside your own body again …our sessions are a space to explore, heal, and rise with gentleness and truth. If you feel called to take this journey in a more intimate, guided way, you click here directly to schedule a session. I would be honored to walk with you.

by Yaeli Vogel

From laundry room to gallery!

The first paintings I’ve painted were directly on a computer desk, where I was able to see the image and painted it onto the canvas. I would also paint on the floor, but that got really annoying and it was so hard to get to the right places. I was dabbling, taking it seriously, but not thinking much about it. My husband said it was time for a “real” easel. A professional artist easel. I poo pooed him. Where would I even put the thing? We lived in a small three bedroom house. Yes, there was a basement – which had toys in every crevice considering the little humans around me at the time – (2 & 3 and baby. on the way) He didn’t listen to me – clearly believed in me from day ONE! And my husband and brother got together and chipped in to get me my first easel and put it together! We placed it in a corner, by one of the toy shelves, and it became a piece of furniture there. The kids got so used to it, they hardly noticed it. They may have climbed on it once or twice. I don’t remember so it must not have been too bad! I would place my palette and paints on the top of the shelf and would even leave it there over night. I wanted a more enclosed space and began outgrowing the toy shelf. (Laugh emoji insert ) We had a laundry room that was raw with tools and storage and well, laundry! I didn’t care at all. I cleared up some space, organized the room and moved my easel into it. I had space to think and BE and I was thrilled! Music blasted, dance moves happened and paint splashed onto canvases – it was goooood times! For those of you who’ve had the honor to come into that corner of the world, you know. Then it was time to move from that cozy nest, and into a larger home to fit our growing family and artwork – it began taking over. . We found a place with a garage – specifically looking for one – to use as a studio and house the paintings. We fixed it up – popped the beams to create a higher ceiling, put up dry wall and a nice light fixture. It was a cool place. But it had some major setbacks. We didn’t place ac or heat in the beginning (and it’s good we didn’t. -read on) and so it was freezing in the winter and boiling in the summer. Not ideal. The plan was to put that in asap. But then, the garage would get flooded! Our backyard is low and water fills up quickly after a rain or snow storm. (Everyone in my area has this problem. We live on swamp land.) and so we quickly removed the paintings from the floors and put them onto tables. It didn’t look all that great after, and the look we created got completely destroyed. I was bummed.Then we did the basement. I quickly reserved one room for myself just to paint in. It felt amazing being warm, cozy and in my own space again. #thelittlethings Whenever collectors would come, they couldn’t see all the work at once, since it was all on tables and in piles. Again – NOT ideal. But it was what it was. I had to paint and sell where I was, to save up money to move onward. One day I was talking to my kids dentist and he popped the idea of looking for a space. Any industrial space. I called my realtor right when we walked out. And the rest is history! You can read all about that in the next blog post – stay tuned!

by Yaeli Vogel

New Gallery

Will you be painting at your new gallery? I’ve wondered why people keep asking me this question and then I thought about a different artist – would I care about where they were painting – for sure! So now I totally get and want to shed some light.I’ve always wanted a place where I’ve can see all of the paintings at once and have this grandiose effect. So when I looked for a space, I really wanted somewhere with WALLS to hang up artwork. I didn’t even think about working there as well. Then we found this space and it was really too goo to be true. It was exactly what I’d envisioned. Extra tall ceilings with WALLS. A M A Z I N G. So we took it. Then I began browsing and Pinterest to see how we could fix it up. Oh I didn’t mention- it was a storage place before and was very undone. Like completely raw. I gathered different art galleries that I’ve been to and picked and chose the elements I loved from them. I wanted something warm and fresh. I saw the work Island many times on Pinterest in fancy art studios and alike and knew that would be included. It just us to be. The place came out fabulous and the work Island was even more so! So even though, yes, the space primarily focuses on show casting the works, I also paint a lot by the Island – right now, actually working on a watercolor series while Sarah, my assistant, works on the computer. It’s a lot of fun Slowly, acrylic paints are making their way in, and eventually there will be an easel there too. I’m not moving my easel from my painting room in my basement since there is no way that I’m running out at 10:30 at night to the gallery to paint. There is nothing like painting in your pjs at home. Nothing.

by Ben Schorr

The Ivanka Painting

It all started with a simple photo. It was one that I had seen on Instagram while scrolling mindlessly one night. It just stopped me in my tracks! It was a photo of Ivanka Trump praying at the kosel. It was so vivid, the wall full of emotion with a woman praying deeply. It was oozing out of my screen. It took me directly to my saved photos where I inserted it for a later point. I knew I was painting it. The colors were being mixed sooner than I had expected. I moved a few other “to paint” paintings around and got working on Ivanka right away. When the inspiration hits, it hits! It was no easy feat, This image. Since the kotel is all one color, I had to focus on the bumps and texture and created that effect by painting layer after layer after layer. It took a long time and I remember thinking, what are you even doing Yaeli? Why are you putting in all this time? What’s your point? Then I thought, like I always do, if it’s for nothing, then I got great practice and that is worth every minute of my time! I was adding yet another layer, the brush swinging from one side to the next with added strokes, when I stood back and saw it. I saw the feeling. The one I saw in the beginning. Breathing a deep breath of accomplishment and satisfaction, I knew it was complete. People ood and aad at its sight, and as they did, I couldn’t help but wonder how long this painting would be stored with me. That thought annoyed me, so I just stuck the painting in between another few canvases where I could forget about it for the time being. People came to view paintings. We would go through them piles of canvases and Ivanka was always there. It was hard to forget about it. My mother’s husband, who is a huge supporter of my work, especially back in those early days, asked me what was with the painting? I said “nothing”. He then popped the idea of sending it to her directly. He said “ just send it to her!” What have you go to loose?? (Um. my painting. Minor detail.) I decided to do it. I told everyone on social media that I was doing this, this way it was real to me and I couldn’t back out. I managed to get a hold of Ivanka’s new Washington home address and got to work. It was Sunday afternoon. I sat down and put together a few words to send it off with. I wrote why I painted the painting and sent it out from behalf of myself and my entire community . I wrapped it up as well as I could. (Those were the days before custom boxes and headed straight for the post office. This was a large painting – 30” x 40” and I was waiting on line with it. I felt funny. When I got to the desk, I landed the painting with the address facing down - I was too embarrassed for the clerk to see where the parcel was headed! He gave me the tracking and told me it should arrive in about ten days. I knew that tracking number by heart. I checked it daily. It was in transit. Oh my gosh! This was all happening and it was exhilarating! Until…it wasn’t. I tracked it again, to see if it arrived and it said delayed. What did that mean? Where was it? These things can happen so I waited. Three days later, the same message appeared. I called. They said that it was in the post office near Washington and if it wasn’t going to be picked up then it would be shipped back. I was disappointed but relieved that my painting was alive and well. I then set a mental reminder to begin waiting for it to arrive back home ten days from where I was. It didn’t arrive back. I called the post office again and they said it had been removed. WHAT?? Removed to where? I was so nervous. Did someone throw it out? Was was I supposed to do? I figured something would turn up so I just waited. It originally shipped out in November, and by now it was December. I received a phone call from an unknown number and so naturally I didn’t respond. There was a voicemail. So I clicked and listened. I heard: “ Hi, Mr. Yaeli, this is the appraiser for the president of the United States….as I heard those words I back tracked the message to the beginning. WHO?? I listened again. The appraiser for the president of the United States of America!! He was calling regarding the painting and wanted to know it’s retail value. I immediately pressed the call back button and gave him the value. He informed me that there were a lot of gifts being sent their way and the ones they liked and wanted to keep, they purchase. He said we would be in touch. A month later I emailed him asking what was going on. Did Ivanka see the painting? He got back to me saying that he doesn’t quite know, but from what he’s heard, Ivanka really likes the painting. Great! I thought. It’s safe and good. All is well. I kept dreaming about different scenarios of Ivanka loving the painting. It excited me! Then one afternoon in the beginning of January, we received a letter. I actually didn’t see it. My husband saw it and texted a picture to me. It said TRUMP on it. I knew what it was. I just knew. He handed it to me when he got home and I open it up. It was a check for the retail value of the painting signed by Ivanka Trump. THAT was satisfying. There was no letter. Just a check. She liked it. She purchased it. And it’s hanging on her wall! If you want to do something, DO IT. Don’t listen to others opinions or beliefs. The way they view things is on them. If you can think it, and dream it, then how ever it will happen, you can do it. Don’t think of “how” think of “why” – why do you want to do it? The “why” will fuel you, and as it’s said “ nothing stands in front of desire.” YOU CAN DO IT. Anything.