Grief and Thanksgiving

Work in progress.

"Let's Take the Long Way," tap image for details and price.

     Grief is not finite; it's a lifelong process that I return to in different ways. It moves with me, changing shape as I change shape. Losing my parents so young didn't just mark moments in my life, it shaped the way I see the world, the way I love, and the way I hold joy and sorrow. Every new stage of life brings me back to that loss with a different understanding. What I felt in my 20s isn't what I feel now, and what I feel now won't be what I feel in ten years. 
     I'm moving through that grief cycle again now. The ache feels familiar, but its texture is different: softer in some places, sharper in others. It rises and falls like weather, coming on suddenly and then fading into something quieter. I no longer expect it to go away; instead, I've learned to meet it with curiosity. What is it asking of me this time? What new layer of understanding is it offering? This return isn't a setback; it's part of the lifelong conversation I'm having with my past, my parents, and myself.
     As the years pass, I'm recognizing the gifts hidden within this process. Grief reminds me what truly matters. It strips away the nonessential and illuminates the heart of things. It's expanded my capacity for empathy. It brings me into the moment. Grief feels unbearable at times, yet somehow you make it through. Discovering that capacity, the ability to survive, is a lifelong source of inner strength. Strangely, grief also, and continuously, deepens my gratitude: I'm aware of how transient life is, so I find myself living with more tenderness, more intention, more awe.    
     The last few weeks, a pair of abstract paintings has become the place where I'm working through these emotions, layer by layer. With each mark, I feel the sharp edges of grief become something I can touch with my hands and see with my eyes. The canvas is a vessel for what's too complicated to articulate, a space where gratitude and longing coexist without needing specific resolution. Each layer helps transform the heaviness into something honest, connected, and alive. In that act of making, I'm reminded that grief creates new pathways to beauty, purpose, and balance. And this creating helps me move grief outside of the body, turning it into something meaningful. Another thing to be grateful for!
     This Thanksgiving, we can gently hold space for our absent loved ones by allowing both gratitude and grief to sit side by side. For those experiencing their first holidays without someone dear, it can feel overwhelmingly raw and uncertain. By acknowledging the loss, we affirm that the love goes on even through pain.

Let's all create a circle of grace and love around our Thanksgiving table.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, and for all the support!   

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends!

See all my available work here
See a selection of smaller paintings here