Wakes, funerals and shivas are traditions for family to receive friends so they can say goodbye. And when they are over, what remains is a profoundly quiet, difficult road with no road map.
I'm an artist. The words sounded true but I didn't know what they meant. It's a simple act to look and paint. There is no cutting edge in sight. It's what flickers between the edges, burning and warming us both, that the practice has managed to gather.