It’s been a while since I wrote. Understandably. Since March 2023, I tended my own true love through the last months of his life with cutaneous t-cell lymphoma. He died on May 30, 2023. We had it good, we had it grand – we lived in a very quiet circle of love filled with lattes and chocolate chip cookies and family and friends and poetry and meditation. And art.
I finished the last daily practice sketchbook, “Messy”, in April. Then, no art making as we intentionally nested, and prepared for Joey’s end of life. Just simple joy, everything reduced to pain relief and storytelling and unfinished business. It was a timeless time.
Now here I am. 4 months after his death. Art making is slow but truly helpful in traversing the grief journey. Just like when Joe was so sick, and I was so overwhelmed –– I would head down to the studio to do something, anything –– this is when the daily practice sketchbooks are so essential. As many artists know, it is easier to be “busy” in everyday projects and tasks than it is to turn toward art making. Bayles and Orland said in Art and Fear, “we turn to art making when the pain of not making is bigger than the pain of making”. So, I am gentle on myself and go slow in the making. But it helps. Every time, it helps.
In the studio: I am working with my journals and the previous daily practice sketchbooks on larger pieces in oils, graphite and charcoal. It is necessarily slow because of the nature of oil paint, and slow is good in this process. I love that I must wait to move ahead, to think ahead about the next layer. These paintings give me time for reflection and synthesis.
I have also started a new daily practice sketchbook called “Emptiness”. (I post page spreads as they get completed on Instagram, check it out.) Like the other books, I am working within a theme that is resonant with my life experience of the moment. For this direction, I am referring to emptiness from the Buddhist viewpoint. That is, emptiness is not vacant, or bereft. In fact, emptiness is so full. Within emptiness, there is spaciousness, and in spaciousness there is potential, and movement, and beginnings. Formlessness is another way to say it. But it’s not always comfortable. And, so it is with grief. A dear one is gone, my sadness is deep and visceral, but incredibly, life moves forward. There are many threads in the fabric.
I am exploring various resources on grief. And while I have found no experience exactly like mine, each expression has something to offer. I highly recommend Anderson Cooper’s podcast “All There Is”, in particular his conversation with Laurie Anderson. Books that have been helpful include Wild Comfort by Kathleen Dean Moore (worth re-reading every so often, no matter what!), The Wild Edge of Sorrow by Francis Weller, The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson, One Long Listening by Chenxing Han, The Cancer Journals by Audre Lourde, The Soul in Grief by Robert Romanyshyn.
Coming Up
Teaching continues to inspire and excite me. The practice of art in community feeds the soul. Northwind Art is offering a few of my classes in the upcoming months. Check it out:
Paint with Poems, November 3 & 4. Explore how poetry can kickstart your artmaking.
Transparency Stars, November 30. This luminous craft is a simple and fun winter season project to do together.
Mindfulness Practices for Art Making, January 4. Even if you’ve taken this one before, it is lovely and centering to enjoy the tactile aspect of art making. A great way to begin your year.
Lastly, I have 2024 calendars available for purchase, $15 each (plus postage if mailing). As in previous years, the format is a 5.5 x 8.5 inch page size, with full color art. This edition features selections from my Everyday Ordinary and Messy sketchbooks. Please email me if you are interested.