Art and Grief
and other deeply human things
One day in the summer of 2007, when I was 22 and right after graduating from UC Santa Cruz in Photography, Dave and I moved into a house in Santa Cruz with 11 of our friends. To save money! To have fun! To be chaotic!
I, in my infinite wisdom, thought I wanted to level up the chaos and adopt a puppy from a local rescue. That puppy was named Hans (we changed his name to Otis named after a street near our house and Otis Redding), and came from a litter of 8 puppies that we were told would be huge rottweiler/pinscers. Dave had just lost his childhood dog named Lily, and we just felt it was fortuitous that we get a puppy that would be a mini Lily.
A few things went different than I imagined- One of which was Otis would never surpass 22 lbs. Except for the 3 week period where my parents watched him in 2012, when he ate two breakfasts each morning unbeknownst to my parents who thought they were each doing his one solo breakfast and he became a bowling ball. That didn’t stop Dave from telling everyone that he was getting bigger for almost a year- before we realized he might be more of a weiner dog mix, lol.
Another thing that I didn’t account for was that Otis would be my dearest friend for the next almost 18 years. He was the first to know if I was crying or hurt. He was always up for an adventure, game for whatever chaos thing we wanted to do. He got lost at SFO, he ran off in a forest in upstate New York, he never met a dog bigger than him and he was the absolute best. He was a legend even before he passed. He was an anchor for Dave and I in the ups and downs of navigating our lives as new adults in a chaotic world. I think I thought I would have a dog, I didn’t know that I would have a best friend.
This past year, Otis slowed down significantly. He was the most active guy- going on backpacking trips and walking no less than 5 miles each day between myself and Dave for his whole life. But his little hips were achy and he had doggie leukemia and we began letting him sit out a few walks a week. These past two weeks there was clearly something wrong, we had several appointments with our vet, who Otis loved, and they basically said it’s likely the progression of the leukemia but it could be a number of things. I really didn’t want to do more tests or procedures, so we took him home, and tried to make his final days (however many we had was a mystery) as cozy as possible.
When we let go of Lucy a few years ago- it was a very long, very slow process of her decline and I think I thought we had more time with Otis. We didn’t and eventually had to let him go before we wanted to. I really wanted to have a final day with him where we did his favorite walks and have him leave this world from the safety of the living room. It didn’t work out that way, but that’s just the way it goes sometimes.
Nobody tells you how to do these things, we realized that with Lucy- nobody will tell you that its time. The grief doesn’t start when they pass, it actually begins long before that. When they pass it just becomes tangible in a new way, it’s a new stage of letting go. We were grieving Otis long before Otis was gone- we also were smiling, snuggling and having fun with him. I knew in my heart that I didn’t have many more post dinner spaz sessions left, so I tried to soak them up as much as I could. He was losing his hearing and sight so I would get close to his ear and say that he was a good boy and I loved him, so at a minimum he could feel the vibrations and perhaps know that’s what I was saying.
The baffling thing I keep thinking is, how does life keep going when you are struggling with grief? On a personal level but on a global and societal level too? We are in the midst of absolute chaos and disaster as a nation, each day is a day full of fresh bullshit that we have to hear about and then, what? Make dinner?
Yes. Make dinner. Respond to that email, run that errand, hug that child, sweep that floor, pay that bill and the list of things that require our attention in the midst of major upheaval goes on and on. It is equal parts unfathomable and also just- of course.
What about creativity? How do we do normal day to day things AND be creative alongside grief? I don’t know. It’s hard. It is also immensely human to be balancing all of these things, and we are not the first people to do it, nor are we the last. I think about all the people I admire and how they showed up for their lives, themselves, their world and made art- if they can do it, I can do it. You can do it. If you feel raw, vulnerable, like your heart is in your throat- use that. Art IS human. Art is messy, sad, ugly, beautiful, touching, scary, funny and all of the above- but among all of that, art is communicating a lived experience. Art can be cathartic- it can be good to use art to express your feelings- and yes, likely the first pass will be bad. That’s ok. Try again.
We have to care for ourselves in order to care for others. My instinct as I was carrying Otis upstairs each afternoon (and having triggering memories of doing the same for Lucy) is for my whole world to be taken over by his needs. But I know, deep down, I couldn’t show up for Otis if I didn’t take care of myself- the same is true for how I think about navigating this period of time in our country (or any time, but right now feels especially scary), in our environment and in our world. I cannot show up for my neighbors, have the energy to stay informed, to call my reps, to step into action if I do not care for myself.
5 (free) things you can do right now to ground yourself when you feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest
Make a cup of tea. Stop drinking coffee, put down the wine (you can pick them back up after the tea if you want) and just have a cup of herbal tea. There is something really soothing about this- I do this when I am frazzled, or if I am nervous before an interview or class. I equal parts hate it, and know it helps. So, if you hate this, do it anyway and see how it feels.
Go outside. If you are spinning out listening to podcasts about the state of the world- or refreshing your instagram feed for the 30th time- put your phone down. Walk outside. Minimum sit on the front or back porch and take a deep breath and list 1 thing you observe with each of your senses: see, hear, smell, taste or feel (a technique Dave told me about that he uses and is really useful). This could expand into going for a walk or hike or bikeride- but it doesn’t have to in order to be helpful.
Hug someone. I sometimes need to remind myself that I am human and am connected to other humans. I will often grab dave for a hug- he’s a good hugger- but a hug from a friend, a child, a parent or a willing coworker- all welcome.
Take a shower. I am 40 years old, and I LOVE showers- but in the lead up to taking a shower you have never met someone less willing. It always makes things feel better. ALWAYS. It doesn’t solve my problems, but it does make me feel cozy and give me the ability to take a breath and feel more able to meet whatever challenges I am facing.
Write. Sit down and write for 5 minutes. BRAIN DUMP writing. SHIT writing. Writing just for you. Write whatever is on your mind. This is not artist pages- you do not have to do 3 pages for this to count. This is 5 minutes of free writing, list making, brain clearing.
Other things of note:
We fostered our first senior dog from Muttville about 2-3 weeks ago- maybe Otis knew we were ok and it was ok to leave because of that, I do not know. But we loved that this dog got along with our dogs and our cats and had just the sweetest personality, so we ended up adopting him. We are naming him Fern, or atleast I think we are, we are really bad at names and it takes us longer than it should to settle on a name.
Fern lived on the streets with his owner before making his way to us. His owner passed and Fern and his companion made their way to the rescue. They think he’s 12 but I think he is younger- he just had a hard life. I am working with him on potty training- I don’t think he ever had a “indoor/outdoor” situation so he could just pee where ever.
He is just thrilled to be close to me or Dave, hes so small, loves to be under a blanket and is slowly realizing he’s home. We have typically had 2-3 dogs- so we feel pretty comfortable continuing to foster senior dogs.
I have gotten back into writing/drawing- revisiting the Slow Novel Lab class I took with Nina LaCour. My goal for myself is once a month to share snippets of my writing and some sketches for paid subscribers. It makes me feel sick to my stomach to say that-but I think it would be really fun. So, I plan to do my first share of writing and drawing next week! If you want more content like that, definitely subscribe.
Some ways to find me:
Check out my work HERE- maybe you need some illustrated elements for your business or for a project, a mural, some painted signs, illustrations for your website or company- I would love to work with you!
Take a class! You can find recorded workshops by me HERE - I have some in person workshops coming up with Case for Making- so if you live in SF, stay tuned!
Sign up for Creative Mentoring sessions with me- I love working with artists and I would love to work with you! I have helped artists organize their ideas for all sorts of projects, children’s books, new shows, applying for residencies and just getting clear on what they want and coming up with a clear plan for how to get there.
You can find work of mine for sale HERE (I have a lot of large oil paintings available and am happy to talk about payment plans if you want one!)
"Yes. Make dinner. Respond to that email, run that errand, hug that child, sweep that floor, pay that bill and the list of things that require our attention in the midst of major upheaval goes on and on. It is equal parts unfathomable and also just- of course." Thank you <3
Love senior pups. I have two and am definitely in the extended decline with my 17 yr old girlie. She has always adored me but watching her withdraw and enjoy less is heartbreaking. We adjust and love them the best we can. It’s like purpose or calling for some of us.