This month has been one of the hardest I can remember. Our sweet Lucy is gone, and the silence she left behind has settled into every corner of our home. It’s in the empty spot at my feet while I paint, the routines that no longer exist, and the countless moments when I still expect to see her.
Grief has a way of changing everything. It slows time, reshapes priorities, and makes even familiar things feel unfamiliar. For a while, I wasn’t sure how to find my way back to the easel. The desire to paint was still there, but so was the weight of everything we were carrying.
Little by little, I’m returning. Not because the grief is gone, but because painting, I’ve learned, is a very helpful way of releasing emotion. The brush doesn’t erase the sadness, but it gives it somewhere to go. Every layer, every softened edge, every bit of light emerging from darkness feels like a quiet conversation with my own heart.
I’ve learned that healing isn’t about leaving grief behind. It’s about carrying love forward. This month’s paintings aren’t just about flowers or still life—they’re about finding beauty again, even after loss. And maybe that’s what art has always been for me: a way to search for light, even when the world feels dark.