Grief is a many-limbed creature. I am six months into dealing with the dissolution of my marriage of 17 years and partnership of 24 years. As an artist, there is no real separation between life and art. Art IS life. Life IS art. Life spills over in a cascading and messy flood, onto canvas surfaces.

I have been navigating the many onion-like, spiraling layers of my grief. Studying it like a smooth river rock in my hands. Exploring its surface, the dappled patina, the way the forces of what has come have carved and forged it. There is a sweet perfume that exists in the harshest of heartbreaking times. It’s a brief sharpness that only lasts for that moment, when it steals your breath away. While in it, I wished it away. Once it passed, I appreciated its clarion call. It is intense and all-consuming; the harsh cry of that hurt obliterates everything else. It was an invitation to only be with it. To accompany it into the dark. To feel its presence and study its face. One’s heart cracks open and in that time, joy and immense grief dance together in a blur of intense sensation. And yet, that time passed as quickly as it came. Tears were slowly replaced by light flooding in. Seeping through the cracks, warming, bringing a buoyant feeling of what’s to come. I am learning about this many-limbed creature and how it operates. Each day is different and brings a new offering to explore and study. None of it is linear, I am learning.

I am working on a new body of work titled ‘unraveling, becoming’ that will be on display in August 2025 that will document this experience. Because again, art is life and life is art.