Hope

This print is dedicated to those I lost this past year but also serves a reminder for myself…

It’s coming up on one full year since I lost my brother (February 7th is the day). And along the way I’ve traversed peaks and valleys of hope and despair. And as the stressors of the world closed in on me, as losses piled up around me, as I uncovered the deep pain in my past, I’ve struggled at times to hope for any future at all.

I’ve sat quietly in the dark dead of night and often felt the call of the void and have fought to find my way back. But the truth is, the reality is, I eventually do. For as dark as those moments are, some part of me, has retained hope that things will be okay. That one day I’ll find my motivations again. It’s hard to remember that at times, so let this piece be a physical reminder. Let this torch light the way forward and serve as a reminder of what I can do, of who I am, of hope for more, not just for me, but for all of us.

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It’s interesting, thinking about hoping for a better future I felt a twinge of sadness… but when I really looked inward, I realized it wasn’t sadness, it was fear.

There is fear in hoping for something better, in hoping for healing. It sounds weird, but if I hope for more, it means staying alive, committing to living. And staying alive means working to help myself and that’s so very scary for some of my parts. Because it probably means doing really really hard work. It means working through more painful emotions and deep down we’re terrified of more pain because we’ve already been through so much. We are so very tired of hurting and being sad. But to move forward, as scary as it is, we have to take suicide, giving up, off the table. And I think, we’re finally strong enough to see that for what it was…and to do that.

So today, this girl, this me, believes in us. I have proven time and time again that I am more than that pain. I’m more than what people see on the outside and I can still be more yet. And I want that.

I’m not done. For you, my brother, for my nieces and nephews, and for the my friends, and for all those that support me. I know I’m not always capable of this heartfelt expression, but today I am, today I’m hoping for more, and today I’m feeling grateful for the love and support graciously given to me by so many. Thank you all, you are part of what makes my life worth it. <3

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A Note on Process

I spent a little over 20 hours putting this together. I made a sketch, used tracing paper to trace the sketch and transfer to the linoleum block, carved out the block (linocut – most of the effort), painted several watercolor backgrounds and then finally loaded my carving with black ink for burnishing/printing my work.

It took a lot of care and attention, but the cool thing about this process is that I can make several. I can keep varying the colors in the background or use different printing ink. To be honest, the process required so much focus it gave my brain a break from the hotbed of emotional dysregulation I experienced this past week (added bonus in that carving the block really satisfies SHing urges weirdly – must be the cutting action).

Despite that mess of emotions, at one point, I told my friends that even though I’ve been in an artistic rut, I wanted to make something hopeful. That’s the only nugget of creativity I had – not what kind of project – not what it would involve, just that it needed to be hopeful.

I think maybe, there is a part inside that knew how much I was struggling. And maybe that part wanted a voice, maybe we needed to prove to ourselves that we still had enough love, creativity, and hope in our hearts to keep making things.

There is something incredibly magical about going from a simple thought, to a final project you can share with those around you. It’s even more special when there’s a lot of love in the message behind it.

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