#100daysofart: Good Grief! Though Not So Good ...

Day 88

Good grief was one of those antiquated terms thrown around in my childhood household.
It was exclaimed, essentially, when I was being a pain in the ass. Therefore, it seemed, grief must be akin to some sort of annoyance, inconvenience or frustration.

Not until I lost my father did I understand what grief truly meant.

One year ago today, my father was still alive.

Tomorrow, he was not.

The reality of that statement is like an algebraic equation around which I cannot quite wrap my head. 

The fact that one moment this person was here, and the next they were not is unfathomable to me. It has been 351 days and I still don't quite get it. Sure, the concept is simple enough, but the reality is a whole other ball of wax. 

It was explained to me by friend who I know it meant well that everyone dies and this was just the way my dad went out - in a tragically unexpected and painfully avoidable manner. She went on to inquire as to whether or not my parents had ever explained the concept of death to me. Only feeling mildly defensive I remained quite and contemplative.

I have been experiencing loss, in the form of death, since I was a little girl. The concept was not a new one for me. Sadness surrounding the passing of that loved one - that was old hat. That pang of missing someone when you want to call and tell them about a new movie or share a story and realizing, as you pick up the phone that you simply cant. I get that. But nothing quite prepares you for true grief. A short word, but a long process. 


Honestly, not until months and months later did the idea sink in, permeating every corner of my life and effecting my thoughts, feelings and actions. A dark pall cast over every decision, every statement. Sometimes I want to try to explain to people upon first meeting that this isn't really me, because my dad is no longer here. I want to talk to my bosses about how my performance in no way could be tip top because my mind is so constantly occupied, not thinking of anything in particular, yet everything all at once. My mind is utterly elsewhere. I want to let my partner know that I can be better, and I will be better, just as soon as they find a cure for this pesky grief. But, as any thoughtful adult knows, you simply cannot do that. Though Corky is no longer here to illustrate this point, life goes on - and so must I. 

I must face facts that I can only do the best I can with the given circumstances and, though the current ones may seem to suck ass - it is what it is. No excuses or explanations, only slowly chipping away at the crippling aspect of the aftermath and belief that things will get better and that the dark pall cast over my life will lift eventually and I will once again feel the sun on my face ... at least I hope so!

Try as you might to avoid grief, it gets you. #100 days of art was a project I took on both to feed my soul and to help me process; help me survive my grief. Below you can find the final days of my project, both random as well as fraught with meaning. Just like life.

Day 89

Day 90

Day 91

Day 92

Day 93

Day 94

Day 95

Day 96

Day 97

Day 98

Day 99

Day 100

#100daysofart: weeks 4 and 5, art is what happens when you're busy making other plans

Another week, another 2 weeks + fraught with real life and peppered with art.

Ironically, those weeks when things are a mess, and time is limited I find it easier to create pieces I actually like. Of course, this is not always the case. There are a couple in images below that were more or less phoning it in, but this exercise is about consistency and making it happen - each and every day. Much like life, some days yield great results, and some just yield.

Below is a shot I took on the Sunset strip and decided to filter it and send it out into the universe. 

Below that I was in the office, had my notebook and had had a lovely afternoon, leaving me with lingering inspiration and a Bic. With no preparation and no real tools, strangely, this is one of my favorite pieces thus far. Perhaps the simplicity and actual emotion made it work so well.

day 31

day 32day 33

day 34

day 35

Wanting my art to inhabit all sorts of spaces, not just that of my notebook, I had the chalk, and the time to make the piece 'Faux Sweet Home' - a simple sentence that entered my head and exited my hands. With a recent extended stay in Los Angeles, a new home that does not yet feel like that - home - it seemed appropriate. I am proud of myself for trying something new, making major alterations to a life that felt like it wasn't working - at least not for me - but that is no way means I am not missing Wash Heights, NYC.

I recently dug up some old college equipment, including my charcoal and , with my father as a constant beacon of inspiration and continuing presence in my life I thought a quick sketch of a recently acquired shot of him as a little boy, not the man who was my father, first with the 'stache in the 80s and then with the thinning crown of hair in the 2000s, this little boy was just Chris, Betty and Neil's son, Elizabeth's little brother and, in this shot, Santa Claus's lap companion. Strange to think of a life before me, in terms of blood relatives, of which I have few, but nice to be reminded of the beautify of the individual, devoid of your influence.

A beautiful dusk at a favorite watering hole, and a sad day with a blue canvas, sharpie and melted 99 cent store crayons made a melancholic piece. My time management was tested for the image below in which I was shooting the founder of Ping Tank, a new and innovative app in his Hollywood Hills home seemed an obvious choice and allowed for rare sighting of the artist herself, though shot from behind. I stand strong that my face does not need to make the rounds on the Internet and that the world wide web benefits more from what comes out of it's contents.

day 36

day 37

day 38

day 39

day 40

day 41

day 42

day 43

day 44

day 45

day 46

day 47

My head never quiets. It is both a blessing and a curse and, more in the distant past than the present, I take the opportunity to pour those thoughts, emotions and lines out onto physical paper. It helps clear my mind and makes me feel like pain, confusion and anguish can be a beautiful and useful tool. A poem, written art, shot under a bougainvillea seemed an appropriate piece and helped download some of the data on my internal hard drive. Blue sort of speaks for itself and with the cyber lives of millions becoming a series of hash tags, it was brought to my attention of National Siblings Day, on which I chose to use collage to honor my relationship with my big sister.

Art of Bella is a DIY painting studio in Koreatown I had been eager to visit for a couple of months now and, with a guest visiting me in the city of Angels, I took the opportunity to make a mug with words of wisdom for someone who has brought me into a positive space by proxy and for whom I am eternally grateful.

A visit to the Getty Center children's gift shop left me going home with an all one-stop-shopping watercolor postcards and a coloring book of transparent dragons - one of which now hangs proudly on my window.

Canvas, chalk and a sharpie created day 44 and as I approach the half way mark another pen and paper doodle ended up being one of my best received pieces.

I had originally had great plans for a dollar store find puzzle but, when the reality fully sank in, I chose to grab a handful of colorful pieces, a glue stick and, once again draw a line bouncing around in my huge Heard cranium and made a piece that actually spoke from a personal place. I find I really like simple pieces with words that mean something, to me if no one else, and day 46 most certainly reflected that.

Wanting to make this a Tuesday update, I am finding myself falling behind and felt done is better than perfect, a mantra I chant to myself, and a couple of dear friends on occasion and am leaving this post with a set of paper dolls, or analog emojis if you will that I created taking the cardboard out of some recently purchased ankle socks that I felt needed to be re-purposed and doodled on to make this phallic family.

Nothing here took more than a 24 hour period to concept and create, nothing here was made with anything but my heart, mind and body and nothing here is perfect - but I can say with absolute certainty - that everything here is me.