A little sketchbook painting, while I try to figure out where to go next.
I’ve noticed that my interactions with people and the way I communicate, both in person and in writing, seem more deeply felt. I believe that, having lived through a time of urgent communication with Les, when I was frantic to leave nothing unsaid, has spoiled me for light banter.
Even though Les’ last days were so painful, I often find myself wanting to be there again. The air in the room was so full of urgency and intimacy. We often speak of the miracle of birth but death is a miracle as well. We tried our best to treat it like that. It seems so absurd, now, that we connected even more deeply just before parting forever.
7 thoughts on “Sketch of a blue pitcher”
Dear Bill, Nothing about that seems absurd. In the vast period of our lives spent between the “miracles” we develop such a complacency. We can be so pitifully distracted from living. When would life ever seem so dear, so precious, and our need to embrace it so fully be as at those two ends? When would all our senses, all our everything, be so brought to bear as then? I think I understand (at least partly) why you would want to be there, in those moments again. (and my heart goes out!)
It IS (a miracle).
And on the painting … I love what happens in your sketches. I think it’s the dance of pen lines and water colors. You capture movement with such a freedom,
even the movement of still ness.
love the painting and your observations of life.
Beautifully said, Ani. Thank you.
Thanks for your thoughts, Katharine and Cathleen.
I can feel and kind of touch the raw emotion in your work.
I am sorry for your loss Bill, and I don’t think what you describe in those last days is absurd at all. You were so right to leave nothing unsaid.
And what a good painting.
Thank you Linda.
Lucie, your words are very kind. Thank you.