But I was wrapped in them, all the creatures I cared for or hospiced, help die, watch die, or found dead. Yes there are spirits and energy that live on but knowing their bodies were all there like a big misfit family, I guess, meant more to me than I knew. On the other hand, it was holding me down.
As I was unpacking stuff I found so many momentos of old friends-Stevie the Kissing Goat, Aldo the Elder, Lofa, so many more, Guinnias, Floyd...Giacomo to name a few. I realized I had pushed that out of me, those goodbyes. I thought I'd said good bye, but I haven't. I suppose maybe they will come to me here in different ways, or in art. You don't need to tell me there will be new animals, and story, and life and death. I know this.
But, I realized that all the wind we’ve been having, really strong wind and it comes off the ocean and it's been gong all night and day-it is very comforting to me–it is a message to stand in that wind, and just get blown up a bit, tossel the raggedy hair clumps even more, let go but acknowledge-it is grieiving I guess. This painting was about wind, with Doris and June, two pigs I left behind with the new owners. I also need to make art again, and...sell it. Perhaps garish to put it at the end of a poignant post, but selling a painting is an acknowledgement for me, and it helps one's creativity pop, and checkbook.
I wondered though, how would I paint the wind today. I might attempt it.
