The Great Mystery

Autumn Reflection, 48x70”. Acrylic on raw canvas. Coming soon, on my new website.

The other day I went to the funeral of a woman who helped raise me.

I grew up with her kids, the middle one my best friend, and I was always welcome in her home unannounced. There would be something good to eat.

She made me feel safe and loved, always, unconditionally.

Sue Ellen Harrigan and my son Nino, when our power went out during a freeze, and we came to their house for warmth.

The first shock as we approached the church was how huge this funeral was—overflowing the large church and crowding the street for blocks with cars.

This was a surprise only because Sue Ellen was such a humble, soft-spoken woman, never one to throw a party for herself. But I saw as we looked for parking that her stalwart loyalty—and that of her family—made her a great loss to many.

It was beautiful and remarkable.

Full Season. 43x35”. Acrylic and Flashe on canvas. Coming soon, on my new website.

This year, I became an adult in tangible ways:

moving into the house my children will remember as home

fighting for and losing our neighborhood school

supporting my husband as he cleaned up the remnants of lives left by family members in Argentina

holding my son in the ER and hospital

beginning to lose the canopy of elders I’ve always known.

In an essay last year, I mulled over the paths not taken, the lives I won’t live. I was having that mid-life discovery that maybe I won’t do all the big audacious things I expected.

Certain paths, if not closed, would be too great a sacrifice to take now.

How did I get this life? Did I choose it? photo by Lauren Slusher. Read the essay here.

Once I finished skittering on those rocks of doubt and regret, I steadied myself and looked around. I felt my feet on the ground and my back strong from lifting children every day. I saw the grown woman of me, surrounded by the people who make my life.

I don’t feel that I have to settle for the life I have. It will stretch to fit me, and likes when I surprise it with small risks and audacious choices. It asks fewer questions than I thought, when I want to drop a bad habit or choose differently. It’s ready to revel in life itself, the great beauty, the great mystery.

In a Symphony, one of many works available for the last time as open-edition prints (only in December).

As I move into this next season, I am beginning a new email list for collectors.

A place with early access to new series, along with updates during the final month ever of open-edition prints.

As beloved substack subscribers (many of you already collectors), you have been added to this list. If collecting isn’t what brought you here, you can unsubscribe to that list at any time, and will still receive my substack.

Many thanks to you, for being here. And one more for Sue Ellen.