photo transfers, gesso/salt texture, acrylic, pen on w/c paper
Breathless. . .the waves of their leaving crash and i come up gasping. . .my two young men, stepping into that vast ocean of life where i will not be able to save them.
If you’re a parent I’m sure you can relate. My boys are 17 and 19 now, though as you can see in the picture, they are still all the ages that have come before, images preserved forever in a mother’s safe keeping. One is far away in college, the other at home, barely, and living his own life, driving around on these perilous country roads. . .gulp. Breathless sometimes. That’s me. Why do we hold our breath as though that holding could stop the motion of life so that we could take a minute to get used to the changes? Just a minute, really, and then I’ll breathe again and be ready for the next development.
All is well with them at the moment, truly, and I breathe – for the moment – deeply and trust.
And a big compliment from Andy (pictured upper left with the glasses at 5) – he has commissioned me to paint him a Bob Marley-esque rastaman in my abstract style and given me a collection of his favorite Reggae music to inspire me. It doesn’t get much better than that.