Sometimes I see the way shadows and light play in a still life in a lovely bowl and try to capture them and what happens is crap. But I like this one. This ceramic hand-hewn bowl with uneven edges, made by my dear friend and studio neighbor Addiam Tsehaye, who died almost exactly a year ago at age 44 of pancreatic cancer, is a treasured gift, and holds the fruit I bring home from the market. The sun through the kitchen window flowed over this solo lime, creating stark edges and complicated shadows and I wanted to try my hand at capturing the darks and lights. It was satisfying to paint this yesterday after returning from a dinner party in my old neighborhood in Redwood City. I reflected on my choices in life with both joy and gratitude and sadness and loss. It seems to be an equal balance, in life, between painful endings and happy new beginnings. Such an unpredictable and interesting mix. Perhaps like the contrast between bright sunlight and deep shadow. My goodness I’m waxing philosophical. Apologies.
My younger sister has cancer. It has returned after 19 years of being mostly cancer free. She continues to live a rich life filled with family and travels and impressive career successes. Something about this bowl created by my friend, now gone, triggers both sadness and happy memories. I put music on while painting it and had to stop and take crying breaks. Such is grief. But it is grief mixed with gratitude and open-hearted joy in living.
7″ x 7.25″ watercolor, pen on paper = $65