Legacy isn’t just about what we leave behind — it’s about what we carry forward. It’s the lessons that stay in our hands, the discipline that shapes our craft, and the stories we choose to honor through what we create.
Today’s Artist Hour subject was the traditional eagle — bold, steady, and alive with motion. Every feather, every shadow, has intent. The eagle doesn’t ask permission to take flight; it just knows the sky is where it belongs. The drawing uses shadow and color to give the image depth and contrast while keeping the boldness of the subject.
That’s the kind of energy I’m learning to bring back into my art and my life — that unapologetic confidence in purpose. Legacy doesn’t grow from comfort; it’s built in motion, in risk, in showing up day after day to create something that matters. It provides a certainty you need to continue moving forward.
Today’s Inktober prompt was “trunk.” I drew a steamer trunk — the kind used for long journeys — worn but solid. The kind that carries your stories, tools, and memories wherever life takes you. On top of the trunk I drew an old compass used to see both where we came from, as well as to help chart where we want to go. For me, the trunk symbolizes what I’m taking with me from my time in service: discipline, resilience, and a drive to make my work matter.
Legacy isn’t just what I’ve done — it’s what I’m still doing. It’s the discipline that gets me up to draw every morning. It’s the respect I bring to every client, every line, every story that walks through my door. It’s the same pride I carried in uniform — now translated through ink and art instead of rank and ribbon.
</span style=”font-size:>
The eagle reminds me to look forward — to keep climbing. The trunk reminds me where I came from — what’s worth carrying and what’s time to leave behind.
</span style=”font-size:>
Legacy isn’t about being remembered. It’s about being real.
If what I create helps someone else carry their own story a little prouder, a little lighter — then that’s the kind of legacy worth flying for.
And if I create something that I can pay forward — through my tattoos, my art, my story — that makes someone else stand taller or feel seen, then that’s the kind of legacy I want to continue building. Because the real measure of a legacy isn’t in the medals or titles — it’s in the marks we make on others, and the courage it takes to keep flying.
