These paintings are a story of a life well lived. And lived hard. By that I mean, it is a story about a life that has been through the whirl, felt the hurt, and instead of being buried, has produced incredible beauty, finding deep roots within all the disaster.
This triptych, 3-panel piece, is of the cycle in which I have seen lived out through this friend's life. From left to right, it reads, The Storm, The Pieces, and The Roots.
The Storm finds itself in the midst of a wave. A wave of abundance. Every person finds themselves in the middle of a day where everything most certainly is falling apart. Unexplainable tragedy hits, cancer attacks, evil seems to trump good, and hope is the farthest thing from reality.
The Pieces is the reality thereafter. Nothing has a home. Every piece is disconnected and feels as if it is totally unvalued, unimportant, and unworthy of the other. Nothing seems quite right.
This is when the story always has a different way. But this story, the one that has made an indent in my own life, chooses roots. The Roots shows the way of pressing on, the way of triumph. The seed that is planted and starts to go against the grain, against the dirt, against the hurt, and digging into the hard stuff.
This story is one that should be shouted from the top of our lungs, the one that presses on. Because nothing is more compelling, more overwhelming, and more beautiful then seeing a life lived well. Hope lived, reconciliation lived, love lived, redemption lived.
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