I’m not where I planned to be at 30 years old. I thought I’d be planning a wedding this past year. Instead, I found myself standing at a different alter – at my fiancé’s funeral – giving a voice to the love we shared since he could not. For the past 8 months, I’ve been picking up shattered pieces and putting them back together into this new formation of whatever I am to be. And I’ve been tripping and re-breaking along the way too. That process will continue for a long time. Its a part of me now. But his loss has left me with gifts too. I have new eyes to the world. I feel everything deeper. I follow my intuition and trust the unknown more. Death, especially one sudden and expected, has a way of doing that it seems. It strips from you all the parts of yourself that aren’t strong enough to hold on, until all that is left are the bare bones.
Death taught me what I cannot live without. I can be in the most unimaginable depths of pain that life can take me to, and still I can find beauty there because I can make it. Even in darkness, I can make something that brings me light. We all can. And we can share it with those who support us.
I’ve spent a lot of years compromising the life I wanted for a safe, steady, secure one. But death took the fear away and left me there with something of a “Okay world, I’m not playing your game anymore” attitude. It pushed me over an edge I was too afraid to go to before. It taught me that fear is an illusion we create, and it’s not a real reason to not live life.
In this way and through our loving memories, my fiancé lives on and continues to influence my art and my life. In fact, from his loss my life has become far richer and more full of love and beauty than anything I could have ever imagined. That’s not to say that it isn’t still burning and cutting into me – because it is – but its a two-sided coin. And I am infinitely grateful for what his loss has taught me about art, love, and life. I owe this whole beautiful new journey I am on as an artist to him. Thanks, babe.