This last series of work began with an impactful experience one year ago, and it’s not an exaggeration to say that this has been the most impactful painting experience of my life so far.
In August of 2023, my spouse Carmen and I were able to take an anniversary trip to Mexico. We arrived at the hotel to learn that they gave us a room upgrade. We opened the door to the most beautiful room, with a sunlit vista of the ocean. I was completely overwhelmed by the beauty of that moment. It wasn't just one thing. The ocean was beautiful. The evening sunlight pouring in was wonderful. The room itself was beyond our expectations and incredible. But what hit me was something else-- it was a realization that after a tragedy, beauty itself can be incredibly healing. In that moment, I was truly encountering something transcendent and I knew it would change me. I spent the rest of the week, and months to follow, remembering that moment, while nurturing an awareness to the beauty around me. I realized that it was a way to move through the grief I have experienced since the loss of my sister to cancer in 2021.
The lingering thought might sound really basic, but it was really important to me:
If, through my artwork, I can help someone experience something even close to the joy and peace I felt through beauty, why would I ever want to do anything else?
If, through my artwork, I can help someone experience something even close to the joy and peace I felt through beauty, why would I ever want to do anything else?
Art is said to be a tool used to confront, provoke, and bring about discussion, and I am so thankful for all the artists that do that. It's just that in that moment, what I experienced was so impactful, especially in the wake of a life changing loss.
Because life will ALWAYS confront, provoke, and bring about plenty of discussion. Maybe in the past, this was the pinnacle role for art. But is it possible that in an era of information overload, we are totally overwhelmed? and that maybe now, art does not need to be responsible for bearing the responsibility of confronting and provoking, because life itself is doing that quite a lot?
I liken my joy-seeking practice to gratitude. For the past year, in painting these artworks, I've been focusing more on the beautiful things, such as beautiful memories of the trip we took to Mexico, and even placing myself right back in that sunlight moment when we first opened the door to see the ocean view for the first time. I take time to remember that moment, how the gratitude and serenity washed over me. I also am remembering the joyful things in my daily life, and my heart has become saturated with gratitude. Even thought my circumstances have not changed, because I have been choosing to see the world in a different light, I truly see everything differently. If there is more beauty in my art, I see that as a symbol of the gratitude that I am practicing, and the joy I am finding. This has been the most transformative experience for me, and as I lean into it, I am convinced that it is all I want to contribute to the world of art. At least, until the world becomes unbroken!
Through this series, I have realized my mandate— that I want to make soul nourishing art.
Through this series, I have realized my mandate— that I want to make soul nourishing art.
If the experience of seeing the ocean was really impactful, what happened when we came home, and I started to respond with painting what would later be known as Before the Fall, was more like a heavy miracle. Speaking of miracles, a recent conversation with a close friend of mine has led me to ask — do miracles ever happen if there is not a juxtaposition of a crisis? It seems miracles and tragedy inexplicably, deeply interrelated.
I came back to Canada with a potent drive to find, and convey beauty with my own artistic voice. For me, the essence of beauty is wholeness and flourishing, and in my mind’s eye, that included a lot of jungle foliage. This was a way to convey the essence of something tangible to me — “What happened before the Fall was the Summer, and I went to Mexico).” But it was deeper than that. It was an homage to the garden of Eden, this sense that before now, this present moment, there was something lush and abundant, and idyllic. The mindset I adopted could be related to anyone who knows what this feels like — to look back on a beautiful, perfect moment, that happened BEFORE something tragic. I was curious about why this idea even came to mind. Because my sister passed away in 2021, I have been living in the wake of her passing, and I’ve been focused on that. What was this subconscious longing to linger in the sweet memory of the ideal BEFORE? I wasn’t sure, but I knew it was important, because the impulse to stay in that headspace kept nagging. I made a playlist that also spoke to the feelings I wanted to search out and convey. At first it felt REALLY FAKE to seek out this nostalgic, happy mindset on my harder and more emotionally low days. It felt like I was lying to myself, which was a really strange posture for me as I pride myself in being a very honest person! In the past, art was there for me to delve into and express any and every emotion. But this series was different — I was looking for joy, nostalgia, and serenity, and I wanted them to bask in their own light. Ultimately, I wanted to give my collectors the gift of this experience of joy through these works. And If I had to sum up the feeling with just two emotions, they would be joy and peace.
Through September and into November this was my focus — happy paintings, joy, peace, serenity, nostalgia, and I was deep into this work when I got an earth shattering call from my brother, with the devastating news that my three year old niece was diagnosed with a rare, and terminal disease.
It is quite the understatement to describe this season as a new wave of grief, and it is hard to put into words what it feels like to grapple with the pending loss of one family member in the wake of losing another.
In that somewhat strange and tragic light, this series has become something of my own personal Ode to Joy. I’ve decided to keep looking for beauty, I’ve found out that leaning into happiness is anything but contradictory in the face of grief.
After that call, returning to the happy place felt, at first, totally inappropriate, and absolutely impossible. I gave myself a lot of space, and even took three months off from working on these. But I realized that avoiding their completion was not going to get me anywhere. Their completion became synonymous with leaning into gratitude, and remembering beautiful moments in life. Their completion was both a difficult terrain to cross, and the only way out for me.The final push came this spring, and with a big, colourful burst of song and dance, they came into their own.
I truly hope you take the time to look at these works. In this age we’ve become really accustomed to rushing. I hope we all learn to slow down — art is always asking for that. Sometimes I think of the old adage “stop, look, and listen” and apply it to my art practice. When life, and these days, gried, gets a hold of me and feels just too unbearable, I stop. Take a breath. I decide to look — I look at an old photo of the ocean. I look at the sunlight. I look at a flower. And then, I listen. I listen to words of healing and hope (see the book list below for examples).
It is with so much gratitude that I share these works. I hope they do bring peace and joy wherever they are experienced.
Now, I would be missing something if I didn’t share what books I’ve been reading while making this art. I’d like to recommend them to anyone facing anything similar.
The Book of Joy by Archbishop Desmond Tutu, and the Dali Lama,
Renewing the Christian Mind by Dallas Willard and Gary Black Jr.
Life Without Lack by Dallas Willard
Amazing Grace by Kathleen Norris
The Light We Give by Simran Jeet Singh
1000 Years of Joys and Sorrows by Ai Weiwei
The Bible with a good commentary, starting in the Gospels
Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela
The Struggle is Real by Nicole Unice
and for relationship issues that will come as a result of the grief experience,
The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work by John Gottman and Nan Silver