My heart desires to express. I paint. I cry. I write my thoughts. I get dramatic. Sometimes I raise my fist in fury. More often than not laughter erupts from my mouth. All these are Reflections of the stirrings in my little heart. One afternoon, I painted my fist-sized heart on my living room wall. I never thought it would amount to anything other than part of a mural expressing my encounters with love. Instead, my heart became centered around much reflection over the past couple years. My heart reflects over its share of thumps and bumps. While in Africa, I was reminded that my little heart is not done in learning how to be tender-hearted. In response, I’ve begun painting again. My focus has changed, since metaphors are no longer aligned with charcoal briquettes. Instead, the dark coals are replaced. Here you will find my considerations into the sacred and venerated world of love. Welcome to my tender-hearted world.