Healing from loss has required tapping into resources I never knew I had. I often found inspiration in unexpected places. Clinging to the idea of hope in the essential goodness of life and the positive flow of healing was not easy, but I found even my darkest moments held promise if I remained open to possibility. This uplifting poem by Emily Dickinson expresses the universal quality of hope. Hope Is the Thing With FeathersHope is the thing with feathers –That…
Although I created this light-hearted piece before my husband’s illness and death, I found myself returning to it in the years afterward with a sense of wonder. Had I ever really felt that carefree and celebratory toward the idea of change? Embracing change has never been my strong suit, but creating this piece allowed me to focus on the positive aspects it can bring to life. My husband and I had recently retired, and I committed to being open to…
I often ask myself this question as I navigate the complexities of my inner and outer life. While healing from the loss of my husband and the life we shared, I find myself not only exploring new paths but doing so alone, without his guidance and support. As the pain of loss and separation transforms into new possibilities and challenges, I wonder just where I am headed in this new life. I find myself again in a transitional space, where…
During my healing process from grief, I realized the importance of acknowledging that I had options, even when it seemed like there were none. Accepting the possibility of choices—whether it meant pushing myself on a particular day or allowing myself to rest—empowered me and made me feel more in control. I continue to find that exploring my choices helps me navigate challenging situations. Inspired by the vibrant colors in a local store’s paint department, I used paint samples to create…
Inspiration can be hard to come by, especially in late winter when I long for growing things and melting ice and snow. The sun felt warmer than usual on a recent walk, and birds were enthusiastically singing. I felt the promise of approaching spring. I could imagine the soft green of springtime, the sky like delicate blue lace above the melting ice, and the crocuses soon to appear, pushing their bright blossoms skyward. I felt inspired by the certainty of…
After a long, wintry month of February, I spotted two hopeful snowdrop blossoms while out for a walk. They twinkled like tiny stars nestled in the partially frozen ground. I love these little flowers, as they are usually one of the first signs that winter is ending in my area. In the Language of Flowers, a poetic form of communication widespread during Victorian times, snowdrops often symbolize hope. What can be more hopeful than the first blooms of spring? I…
Sometimes, in the face of stormy emotions or events, I can only hope to persevere. For me, perseverance stems from rest, self-care, focusing on gratitude, and staying connected to the bits of positivity that each day holds. No matter how gloomy the day, those glitters of hope are present if I remain open to them. I created this study as part of a more extensive work to express this idea in more detail. The study depicts my heart, threatened by…
I created this canvas on the third Valentine’s Day after my husband’s death. I called it Empty Heart, though I hoped to imply that the emptiness might someday be filled again. Over time, I have learned that this hope is not just about finding another partner but about discovering who I am without one. I used beautiful hand-silk-screened Japanese Chiyogami paper to define the space surrounding the blank heart shape, cutting another flower shape from a different Chiyogami paper that…
Inner peace can be hard to come by, no matter what loss we grieve. Looking at the stars helps me put things into perspective and takes me outside my small emotional orbit. There is something expansive about stargazing. I find comfort in the quiet nighttime sky, under the gaze of familiar and timeless constellations. Before working in mixed media, colored pencils were one of my primary mediums. There is a meditative quality to layering the colors to obtain the correct…
It may seem premature, but dreaming of spring can be uplifting. When I was deep in my grief, it comforted me to believe—despite the lack of evidence—that things would eventually improve. I know it’s true that even on a cold, windy, and ice-crusted day, the warmth of spring will eventually arrive. Much of my healing relied on faith and hope for better days. This belief acted as a lifeline in the turbulent waters of despair. Even now, I realize that…
I created this piece early in my period of acute grief after my husband’s death. It was winter; I had taken a bad fall and was feeling alone and vulnerable. Taking walks on snow and ice-covered surfaces felt threatening and anxiety-provoking. Where I once found relaxation and inspiration in my rambles through nature, I now felt guarded and uncomfortable. I started this canvas by painting the background and creating a snow effect through spattering. I used fiber paste to depict…