Skipping Sundays | Artist Statement

“How many of you have been saved?” the preacher shouted at a church event. Hands rose across the room. Not wanting to be the only one left behind, I slowly lifted mine as well. I wondered why this “magical” experience had never happened to me. I wanted to understand why faith carried such weight for others when, for me, it felt limited to Sunday services.

As a young adult I moved out on my own and began skipping Sundays, yet the questions followed me. One evening, sitting in the living room of a spiritual friend, I asked her, “How do you believe?” She answered with complete certainty. “You pray for it. You just have to have faith. That’s all.” I prayed earnestly, waiting for something to shift, but nothing did. Over time the questions faded, though they never disappeared. They resurfaced during the moments that shape a life. The birth of a child. The death of a parent. Even then, I felt as if I were only going through the motions, still unable to reach the deep connection others seemed to hold.

Many doubters keep their questions hidden. Silence becomes a form of protection, but also a source of isolation, especially when surrounded by people whose belief feels absolute. These images revisit those Sundays of my childhood and the long pursuit that followed. They search through memory and ritual to ask why belief comes easily to some while others remain on the threshold, still wondering.