Last night I went to my Art class for the first time since burying my father. I can see that my world will be divided into before my Dad died and after. I struggled in class for the first time in a long time. I questioned why I was taking an abstract class when I'm a realistic painter naturally. Is there some method in my madness of trying to force growth through discomfort? Or am I just putting myself in another place where I don't fit in? Anyway, the resulting painting was full or harsh shapes, lines, and color. A painting of discomfort and struggle. I might paint over it, but I'm posting it here first. Here's my painting baby.
You have somehow captured the hurt, the tears and the loneliness tearing through thru my very being because of the great loss we (me & my family, you & your family) have suffered. Perhaps the beauty of your painting will help to ease our hurt and bring us peace. Love to you and yours.