The words pulsated within my soul as I brushed my hands, wet with pant, across a blank canvas. The message was revealing. For years, I’ve struggled with the trauma of my childhood and early adulthood; and painting has become a way to cope. Obituary was born out a necessity to tell the stories that I’ve seen, heard and lived.
Obituary isn’t about grief. It is a eulogy for the past — a way to let go. It is a resolution of the experiences I have no power to influence. It’s a collection of stories that have weighed on my soul, full of wonder, love, ill feelings and, most intensely, loss. Each piece, with their own spirit, with a name and a story that was begging to be told, in the hope they — and I — will finally find peace in their eternal rest.