There were days I spent with her that I longed to paint or create or at least get my hands busy doing something "normal." Art wants to emerge even under strange circumstances.
This is a photo from my visit to the castle in Umbria. It was one of those scenes that stayed with me...such a clutch of strength and intertwining and yet delicate as well ...even the swing hanging from a branch was a detail vivid in my mind. I kept going back to this memory, not sure why, but I could feel its power whenever someone reached out, literally or figuratively, to assist in the care of Mom.
I found my way to a few supplies (left in my backpack from sketching trips); I cobbled together a drawing board from a cardboard box and borrowed painters tape from the handyman. Pencils and pens and a few moments here and there to doodle helped distract me and refuel me. I realized that once again I was calling upon this scene of endurance.
This is what eventually emerged...I know it is rather cartoonish and I am itching to re-paint it in a more serious vein. But I realized that the photo I took was really a metaphor for those folks we depend on, our sanctuary of friends, the ones who hold us up, whose roots are all tangled up with ours, whose minor differences are almost invisible when we all stand together for good. I just let my thoughts direct my pen and my art critic for once was silent. It was therapy, it was healing. My mothers sanctuary of friends was surrounding us with their love and help just as mine was sending vibes of strength and support.