An artist friend, after hearing about my super long hiatus from painting, encouraged me to get back in the studio and paint ANYTHING, which I did last week, and wiped it off, and did again, and wiped it off, and then did again. I kept the third attempt, which is a small imaginary landscape, 8" x 8", that is sitting on a shelf in my art studio to remind me that even though life is hard, beauty is still present. Painting and not knowing what I was going to paint was an exercise in getting dirty and out of my head space, which has been preoccupied with the shifting vagaries of life, namely death, specifically the death of both of my parents a mere six weeks apart this past summer.
When someone passes away, that connection that only the two of you had together passes away also. Mom died first. Not all of the stories between Mom and me are happy ones - but these last few years have been some great ones. She almost stopped trying to fix me, and I almost stopped being bothered by it. Our last conversation before her speech was irreparably altered by a devastating stroke was probably the most peaceful and relaxed conversation we had ever had. I'm ever so grateful for that final hour we spent on the phone, before words were lost to her forever.
Dad and I also had a precious reckoning of love right before his end, unexpected and very healing. I so appreciate that my "closure" with both parents was healthy, loving, and gracious.
I'm not "over" my grief, but am taking small baby steps to reintroduce myself to situations, people, and things which bring me joy, such as painting. What a blessing it is and was to enjoy time in the art studio again! And, thank you Mom and Dad for the gift of a new easel which I bought with a little inheritance money y'all left me.
And so, on my new easel, which worked like a charm, I painted this little girl last week, which I am calling Girl in Pink. It's 12" x 12", oil on board.
