I just sat here deleting three separate sentences, because what I would say about this painting right now doesn't have a real lot of meaning for me. Suffice to say that a lot of the subtext is about Death.
Josie Teal died yesterday around noon in her sleep. James called not even two hours after she was gone.
Going to work this morning seems so very unimportant in the cosmic scheme of things, except that it's the device by which I make money to pay the mortgage. So my happy ass will be going.
Josie was so good to me and Barrie. Was an amazing mother. A beyond amazing woman who worked tirelessly in her field of education. Got her martial arts black belt later in life, because she decided she wanted one and got it. I'm sure she faced down her own challenges in her life, but what I will always remember is her laughing on the hill we lived on in San Francisco, back in the day. Teasing her son. I don't even remember what about. I just remember her laughing and how grateful I was and am for her friendship.
It's a good memory.