Good Grief

Finding the good in grief after a loved one passes seems impossible at first. Grief in general is complicated and will be unique depending on the relationship. For me, it was dark and heavy in the beginning. In time, more time then I think society acknowledges, I made friends with my grief. Instead of carrying it like a burden, I carried it like a companion.

My father was known to be a funny man. He and I had an inside joke about the color yellow. Once anyone had an inside joke with him, he’d find a way to bring it up almost every conversation.  For years when I’d show him a new painting he’d say, “where’s the yellow” or “you know what would be nice, some yellow.” I knew one day I’d paint yellow flowers in honor of him and his sense of humor, but I also knew I had some healing to do. Carving through my heart ache, I kept reminding myself of how I want the paintings to feel. Lush, soft, gentle, angelic. Like heaven. Like a hug from him.

Inspired by Persian rugs, I paint rotating the canvas in every direction; allowing the painting to function in all orientations as a rug would. Drips are used as threads of time interweaving through the layers. Irises eventually became the flower I drew inspiration from. Their lavish petals bring an obvious beauty, but I found irony of the iris in our eyes and seeing myself in a new way intriguing. The compositions are a play on symmetry and Rorschach ink blot tests. Again another a way to ask myself and the viewer what we see within ourselves.