The Black Lake
I once lived near a vast black lake, its waters darkened by the surrounding T-tree wilderness. Even after moving away, its memory stayed with me, somehow serving as a symbol of the grief that comes after life has transitioned and chapters have concluded.
For a few years after I left, I found myself making excuses to revisit this previous home, a life that I had left without ceremony, not grasping the full scope of its conclusion. In returning, I learned that you can never really go back.
The idea for this series came about slowly during one of my visits, and then all at once, like a wave of grief. Each work is a monotype—a process that requires letting go of the original painting during the printmaking process. What remains is a trace of the original, a mark that speaks to the inevitability of loss. And yet, in creating the work amidst life’s relentless currents, I am reminded that the lake is still there – altered, but enduring.
And so the series serves as a farewell that still remains unfinished, a testament to the lasting impact of the people and places we once called home, the connections that shaped us, the losses we carry, and the ways we attempt to hold on while learning to let go.
