Name Your Sadness Set It Free
“Name Your Sadness” is a painting from my latest series called “Into the Half Light,” with little pink clouds that appear to remind us that we can rise above even the hardest situations.
There was a time after Kienan passed when I thought that our little family would never be whole again. That has slowly begun changing. Although we will never be a family of four in our physical bodies again, I’m starting to get to know Kienan as more than just his body. As an incredible energy and an infinite part of the universe. Recently I went back to the Seattle Art Museum for the first time since Kienan passed and was anticipating more triggers than enjoyment. SAM was always a refuge for us, and we spent many days wandering around the rooms absorbing as much art as we could. Yet, on my first visit back to the museum I was surprised to find it was far more healing instead of destructive. I felt the life of Kienan so strongly within the museum walls, within the art they so deeply loved. Standing in front of one of their favorite paintings by Frederic Edwin Church titled “A Country Home,” I couldn’t have anticipated how it would impact me and force me to reflect on all the anguish of losing a child and what it meant to be here without them. I started thinking about how we would never stand side by side in front of this painting again. I stood there alone with tears pouring out of my eyes. All those years I never asked why this painting meant so much to them!! Although I understood the beauty of it and the technique it required, it just wasn’t their style or like any other art they collected. Then as I stood there I started to ask Kienan why over and over again. What was it about this painting did you love so much? I felt a rush of calm come over my body, and the tears stopped. I let go of the regret and anger I was feeling and I quieted my mind. In that instant came a wave of information fromoutsidee myself that I had never experienced. Somehow, it’s as if Kienan spoke directly to me. It was the pink clouds… PINK COULDS. All of their life K would stop me to look at pink clouds. From the age of 5 on I can remember them asking to stop and look at the sky. In thatsecond,d I could feel Kienan’s entanglement with that piece of art, and that powerful entanglement carried a message directly to me. Once again, we stood there in a newway,y looking at the pink clouds together. When I walked through the rest of themuseum,m I realized this experience was a lesson in how to be open to learning a new language, the language of loss. If I can learn how to communicate and live with Kienan outside of their body, then I can also learn how to start to feel whole again. Art makes those divine interventions so much more accessible in many ways.
I have always believed that when we interact withart,t we exchange a piece of ourselves in the process. An unspoken agreement where both parts become one in some way that never uncrosses. When thathappens,s we can get a bird’s-eye view of something bigger than ourselves.
Looking back at the series I had justfinished,d I had a realization that after Kienan left thebody,y I had subconsciously been painting pink clouds in almost every piece I’ve made. Not until I opened myself up to talking with Kienan in real time had I begun to see the separation between those we’ve lost is a very thin veil that we are told does not exist or is not something we can’t access. I no longer believe that to be true and it has completely changed my process as an artist and the way I interact with art as a witness to it. This is why art in all forms can transform, transcend, and even stop time completely. This is why art is so needed in society.
My hope for today is to gain the power to name our sadness, and in turn maybe one day we can set it free—