If you follow the blog closely, you noticed how I was suddenly offline--better known as blogger's suicide. I resolved to take a few days off to see family, thinking I'd make up for it later. I have this tension where I both love what I do and I love treating it like a bad puppy when I feel a tinge of ownership over me. And so I did. "No laptop for this trip!" I declared. "And one less thing to do at airport security!" I patted myself on the back.
But I took my paints. Of course.
|You may have seen my mini-homage to my grandmother Luz on Instagram: a yellow rose. I painted this the next day and didn't realize until finished that I was still musing on a rose for the moment, though this time a blue one.|
The family vaca / turned / bachelorette weekend for my sister in law took a sad turn. I heard that my grandmother suddenly passed away. I added another location to my July trek: Puerto Rico.
|My fourth (and heavily re-worked) sketch that day.|
I'm not sure why it took me so long to think to paint her. We were not able to view the body due to delays in its handling. A painted portrait seemed right. And yet it was a challenge; a challenge in dancing between emotion and technique. In the end, I lost. My portrait was not what I had hoped.
But I was okay with that because this rang true in my heart: her memory--her grace, her twinkling eyes, her simple humor--was much too beautiful to depict. I am simply not able to do it. It made total sense. I was sad I couldn't offer myself or others a sort of "aha moment" in an awesome piece, a sort of closure or a symbol of what her radiant, light-filled life meant to us. Actually, the process of her burial left little room for closure altogether and forced each one of us to find our closure among each other and most importantly with God.
After a very busy, emotionally charged, and tiring ten days, my son and I were eager to come home. I missed our quiet life, my loving hubby and yes... my laptop.