I have been asked many times why I was giving away so many paintings. I think today is the time for  me to explain why.

A STORY OF LOVE.

What a beautiful day it was, that Sunday February 3^rd 2008!

The air was crisp and joyful.  All seemed so peaceful and harmonious!

It was Super Bowl Sunday, but most of all, it was this magic day when the family had gathered to build a Tree House. Papa, maman, Josephine, Remington and a dear friend were singing their joy in the sun.

And then, the unthinkable happened.

Josephine Athena Kail died.

She drowned in the pool.  She was just 2 and a half years old.

In a few minutes our world fell apart.

My precious grandchild was gone.

Should I describe the pain?  There are no words accurate enough to hint at the destructive wave that invaded my body, my soul, my spirit, and my heart.  I heard people telling me I had to be strong, but I was unable to comprehend what they meant.  For what?

As the minutes, the hours, the days, the months went by, I watched my daughter and her husband raise their heads like heroes.  All the while I felt myself sinking into a black and empty hole.  A constant and heavy weight invaded my body and my eyes could only see in shades of dark grey. Death was in me at all times.  Guilt and anger showed up to finish the destructive work.  I rejected everything....my God, my religion, and the loving attentions of my friends, family, and my boyfriend. I created an empty hole for Josephine and me.

My love for my daughter was my only reason to stay alive, I mean, for my body to live.  For my heart and who I thought I was, had died....

I suppose that somehow, my Source took pity upon me, because little by little, I started to see again.  I immersed myself in books and any materials that would raise my spiritual awareness.  Anything that could give me a reason to, perhaps, not understand, but accept.

”Mamouska, Josephine is not dead, she is invisible” Remington would say. He was right.

I changed the way I looked at life and life changed. My studio became my sanctuary.  Layers of paint were transformed into layers of love. Josephine was not dead, she was invisible.

She was...she IS with me, smiling, dancing, painting.

I miss her smell.  I miss kissing her belly and her neck.  I miss her smile, her cascading laugh, her appetite for life, music, dance and chocolate.

I miss her personality, her excesses, her dramatic approach to life.  I even miss the superior way she looked at me when she was with her parents, for when she was with them, nobody else existed. As she looked at me and said, “me not ta petite Cherie, me, Josephine."

Yes, I missed her physically, but I also felt a spiritual connection.  An unconditional love for my Source and the universe invaded me.  I started to feel connected with all of humanity and I realized that the same energy that was going through Josephine, and me, was also going through all of us.  It was time for me to share my love for her, with humanity...to do something in her honor.  I searched for an organization where I could share my gift of love and tenderness…

And then I realized that my patrons always commented on my work, as it gave them a happy, peaceful and energetic feeling!

With a smile and an incredible feeling of joy, I decided to give away that which was only a gift to me:  my paintings, my work, and my talents.

The Sebastian Ferrero Foundation has graciously accepted to help me to do this.  I feel so overwhelmed by their kindness towards me, and so fortunate that they volunteered to help me deliver my message of love.  This will help me to honor Josephine’s memory, to heal myself and most of all, to perhaps, infuse in others the idea that love is the only winner in this world...in this life.

Recently, this painting was selected to be part of a juried exposition at the Gainesville 9th Annual Fine Arts Competition.

It had rained all night and early in the morning I walked down through my garden to smell madame Printemps (Mrs Spring).
As I took my first steps, an immense feeling of love invaded me and invited me to look with my heart at the magic beauty of nature.

As for the trees, i could sense that they were not yet sure if it was the right time to fully embrace this dance, but they were starting to show their impatience to burst into a chartreuse "Valse".
The azaleas were not just smiling, they were screaming with joy and wore their dance costumes as if they were going to a ball. Every single petal was wearing a necklace of diamonds that sparkled in the morning sun and the glossy leaves were beaming with pride, so happy to be part of the show.
I am happy to share with you this beautiful scene. Perhaps it will help you to understand why my use of colors is so strong My garden, when it decides to show off, is responsible. So do not be surprised if my next paintings are all about spring in my garden. i cannot resist this force that invades me.

 

CRYING  FLOWERS

A story about healing

54” X 50”

 

I had not been able to paint for many months, since the death of my little grandchild Josephine. She was 2 ½ years old.

I was numb and had no creativity left.

One morning, as I was seating on my back porch’ steps, my eyes got caught by the pink flowers in front of me. They were dancing in the morning sun.

 

Somehow, they reminded me of Josephine ‘s joy, of her excessive thirst for life, of her enthusiasm for flowers, for chocolate, for dancing, for running, and most of all for her parents. It reminded me of her dramatic approach to life.

Suddenly, I needed to go to my studio. I was going to draw her, paint her.

I did several charcoals, painted her in all colors, but it was at the end a pile of mud. No drawing could match my perception of Josephine.

I felt miserable and thought that I could never paint again. That was it.!

 

The next morning as I was walking through my garden, I saw the same flowers looking at me and I remember thinking: ”why not?”

I went back to the studio and settled the largest canvas I could find on my easel, I mixed all the pinks I could imagine, all the purples that she liked so much.

With a piece of clothe I primed my canvas with a chartreuse green, which is the color of her play-room and while it was drying, I went back to the garden with a small canvas and sat in front of the flowers.

While I was sketching my thumbnail, I realized that I was looking at the flowers, but seeing Josephine.

When I came back in front of my big canvas, I first started timidly to address the shape and composition, but then it happened: the urge to paint.

Layers of tears, layers of pink paint, layers of purple and white paint. They were all layers of love

Today I look at this piece and I do not know if it is good.

I do know that, I Love it.