Last month, this long time friend passed away. After losing dad, it was a hard event to process. I am still trying to sort it all out in my head. We hadn't really had that much contact over the past couple of years, yet the few scattered emails and coffee dates we had were heartfelt and significant. They changed the way I process my world, as well as the way I feel about calling myself an artist. Sherri was every bit as much a teacher as a friend.

I've been looking at this picture a lot lately. It's only from 4 or 5 years ago, but if feels like a lifetime ago... somehow back in more carefree days. I keep trying to figure out if my days have changed significantly since then... or if I've changed... of if I have a bad memory and the days weren't actually all that carefree. This picture was taken before her husband was diagnosed and died of a brain tumor, and before my dad was diagnosed and died of prostate cancer. Life, as good as it is and as grateful as I am, has felt like it's had a fat little gray cloud hung above it by comparison.

It was interesting timing that today my friend Betsey returned this brightly colored pencil pocket to me. I'd made it for Sherri ages ago and Bets had found it while sorting through Sherri's studio.

See the possibilites.

Just the other night, after registering for spring art classes, and thinking ahead to ARTFEST and a summer garden, I realized that I was actually looking forward to things again. I could see clearly that this past year had been one dedicated to moving through the moments.... one at a time... some indescribably wonderful, and some nearly unbearable. I didn't realize it before the other night, but looking forward to things has not been a part of my reality in a while.

See the possibilities.

Last night I had a dream that my dad was sitting in his chair in his living room, and I was at the dining room table. It's a small house and the dining room is maybe 15 feet from his chair but, in my dream, the table and his chair were REALLY far apart. I could see him perfectly and he was Ok-- just far away from me. Upon waking, I realized that's how my experience of death feels... like my dad (and now Sherri) are OK, just really far away.

As we move out of winter and into spring, I am going to keep embracing the message that Betsey brought me today: See the possibilities.