I painted over a painting, today.
Today, I painted over a painting. It happens from time to time; I recycle a piece to create something better. Typically, I will paint over something that just never ended up being successful in my mind. It fell short of an idea or just never came to a place of resolution.
Today, I painted over a piece for a very different reason — a painting that was created in the midst of a great loss in my life. It was created right in the swollen heart of chaos; it was the very first piece that I made when I lost my first baby. I worked on half of the painting while I was happily pregnant. I, then, lost the baby (such a big event to fit into three simple words). I quickly found that painting was a way to stumble through the cold night that followed. I finished this specific painting, thereafter. And it was something that I held onto. But it started bringing me so much sadness, as time moved forward. What was once something that held me up, began to pull me down. I hid it away in my storage for it brought with it a great flood. I created other work during this time; all created for a show that I did in 2014 titled “Still” — but these other pieces didn’t carry the same potent sadness as the first one.
After much deliberation, I decided to create something from it. To start anew or more truthfully, continue on. Because isn’t that what life is? We take experiences — colorful layers that form our character and personal history — and build on top of it.
I created something bright and luminous that is firmly anchored to this heartache… but chooses to not dwell in that once dark corner. Maybe, perhaps, it even celebrates it. It still holds that memory in its watery depths. The original piece was green; I used a yellow and blue on top. I placed daisy seeds in the final layer. Soil. Salt. And in this piece, these materials took on an entirely different meaning.
It is nearly the four year anniversary of losing my son, Jude. And this all seems like a really beautiful way to honor him.
Such a moving experience you have posted here, Dear Jessica. It is an honor to read about your process, to see the shift and transformation in healing that has happened, and that you were wise enough to allow the painting to guide you in that direction.
Last year I painted over a canvas that was my third layer, emerging from a profound loss in our family. I was astonished by what what transpired. Everything was luminous, dancing, filled with joy. And someone special bought it. How sweet!
Cyncie, wonderful friend. I am so appreciative of your words. I kept questioning if I should share this; if it’s too much — too personal. Thank you for understanding where this came from on a very personal level. I guess I just followed its lead and it led me here. I love that you were amid much of the same (although I am sorry that you experienced loss) — working over something that was representative of a difficult loss — and that it brought lightness and meaning to create something anew.
Dear Jessica,
Thank you for sharing! Very touching!
It brings into my mind the last chapter called Realizing Ultimate Reality of Thich Nhat Hanh’s book ‘Touching Peace’. He talks about the fact that Life is just a continuation of what was there before. Nothing comes from nothing but everything comes from something. Very amazing book. So that you are realizing the new painting from a continuation of the previous one. And the new one reminds me of Mama Earth. You are beautiful. ?
Isabelle — thank you. I will have to read that book. Such beauty and eloquence… I love that you say everything comes from something. It was strange to have such a strong desire to paint over it, but I think it just needed to continue on into something else. I am so in love with the idea that it resembles Mama Earth; that is so poetic and beautiful. I love you!
So sorry for your loss, Jessica. Joyful that you can mourn but still move forward and create beauty.
xo
Thank you, Pat. Truly. It was years ago and it still sits there in the very center of who I am and I don’t ever expect it to go anywhere. As you said, still mourning, but very much moving forward. This was a meaningful way to explore it. Thank you for your supportive words <3