The Biggest Mistake of My Life
In 2017 I lost my husband suddenly. He was 37. I was 44 at the time. Our children were 5 and 7.
There is a good two years I really cannot recall in the aftermath. The analogy to a fog is an understatement. I was carried and cared for by family and some really tried and true old as well as new friends. Not to mention my kids holding strong against all odds.
Then at some point I picked up a paint brush. I had to get out of my head. Think about something seemingly brainless- something other than our loss. The future I would never have with the love of my life. The events and experiences and growth he would never see our kids go through.
It was a miracle of the most miraculous kind. It did so much more than I could have hoped for. It showed my children their mother moving again. Thinking, creating, smiling here and there at first- and then more and more. I poured all of my hardest feelings in to my experiments- I definitely did not consider myself an artist at the point or my pieces artistic. However, I ventured on to social media and showed the world what was transferring through me. And they Loved it. Supported it. More importantly, Felt it. In the years since I have cried with my clients, hugged them, shared darkness and laughter and just plain loved them. Made amazing connections that endure to this day.
So next month, May 2021, I open my very first shop featuring my artistic hand painted furniture and canvas art. And this is the beginning of sharing this chapter with you -