Holding the story
I've been working on some new art and writing.
Oh the writing...there are so many things I could talk about right now in relation to the writing.
But I will say this.
I didn't know how much grief there still was surrounding my father's death until I began to explore that period of my life through writing.
It feels like a storm just blew all the way through my insides and I'm now trying to sort out the mess.
I'm finding myself sifting through so much sadness. I had no idea how deep this sadness was until I saw my father's obituary for the first time. Then it all came rushing back.
My father died in March of 1984. He was only 27. And I would have been 6 that following April.
The piece below was my way of beginning to work it out...my way of learning to hold the story.
It's something I'm still working on day to day.