Is 5 months out too early to be mentioning that I’ve got a collection brewing?

If it is, I’m doing it anyway.

I think I’m justified, given that 3 of those months are going to be a maelstrom of packing, traveling, and moving up to IDAHO!

I’ll be slowly (ahem… procrastinating as long as possible) packing up my art studio over the next two months, along with the rest of our stuff, then making our official move. It’s bittersweet because my husband won’t be joining us. His 4th year externships take him to VA and UT and finally back to San Antonio, and it’s not very plausible for me and two little kids to tag along through all that moving around. So WE’LL be spending the year with my parents.

A fortunate upside of this situation is that, with the available childcare of having family around to help me, I plan to start working a few hours every day as an artist!

And one of the first dates I have circled on my calendar (besides the days I’ll be flying out to visit Weston) is the release date of a collection of paintings and other pieces. Oh h*ck, I’ll just go ahead and share it with you.

AUGUST 25 2020.

But the point is, it’s there. It’s outlined. It’s in the works. And I could not be more nervous or excited about it!!

I’m working ahead to it a bit; trying to paint as much as possible before I can’t paint (except out of sketchbooks for a while).

Today I finished the piece that launched the idea for the whole collection. I’ve attempted collections of work before but nothing as cohesive (in my head) as this.

I won’t dig too deep into Jacob chapter 5 in this blog post, but I will pose a few rhetorical questions.

Who do you love?

How would you feel if you suddenly lost someone you loved? What would your grief include?

Rewinding a bit, what would you do in an attempt to save this person? What would you be willing to give up?

Finally, and most importantly, what emotions did these questions bring to the surface?

The journey that this painting took was somewhat in reverse of the above thought train.

It began as a simple series of playful marks, gradually forming the shape of a gnarled tree.

I could see the final painting in my mind and I was working my way there. Building up the bark, deepening the shadows, intuitively sculpting this aged olive tree.

Then something happened that took my mind and heart completely out of my little studio and filled them with empathy for my Savior.

As my paintbrush skidded across the canvas, it made an unusual sound that reminded me of the involuntary, spasmodic breathing that one does after a very long cry. Once I heard it, I couldn’t UNHEAR it.

And so the process of painting this tree became filled with the sounds of someone in deep grief.

I thought of every nightmare I’ve ever had of losing my children, or my parents, or anyone else I love, and how even after I’ve woken up and realized it was just a dream, I still have to cry about it. Even as I’m holding them, knowing that they’re okay, I still have to cry.

I hope I haven’t given the impression that this entire collection is going to be full of SAD paintings! Because that is NOT true! The message behind this collection, which I am titling The Vineyard Collection, is one of earnestness and eternal love.

Those of you who have read Jacob 5, or have done any family history, have felt that love working in your hearts, and I hope that I am able to connect that love to my work and thread it into these paintings for you.

“It Grieveth Me That I Should Lose This Tree”