Constance & Orion: New Work from the Studio
I made this painting for my Mama. It is the first piece in a larger series that I’m currently building for a June solo show at the Royal Artisan Gallery in Baker City. I’ll be sharing more about my new series in the weeks ahead, so stay tuned!
A little bit about this painting: my Mama will be turning 70 this spring, but in her younger years, she was a dancer. And I always think of her this way. ((To be honest, she's still a dancer, she just doesn't do it in the toe shoes anymore.))
My Mama has had a tough few years. She lost my brother (well... we all did) in 2014 to an accidental overdose. It cracked our family wide open. Then in 2019, her beloved husband Obbie died of cancer. Another monumental and astonishing loss.
Grief has a way of burning away anything extraneous. It tears through the house of your heart and incinerates who you thought you were. I have certainly felt this. And I know my Mama has as well. She, though, is luminous in her grief. What I mean by that is this: her grief is revealing her layer by layer because she is allowing the process to work its dark and glorious magic. She glows in her grief. It has been the honor of my life to witness her fierce, open-hearted resilience.
This line from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet was in the back of my mind while painting this piece:
When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine,
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
This painting, called "Constance & Orion", is for her. Just her and her big sky, Orion overhead, and the spirit-energy of those we've lost cheering her on.
If you’re interested in a print of this piece, or any other piece, please visit my Print Shop.