So…there are times when things happen in my studio that are difficult to describe in words. Most recently, a man came in and noticed this painting that I was working on for a show opening this Fall. He was immediately drawn to the painting and asked me several questions about it. The next thing I knew, his eyes were filled with tears and he was explaining a poem to me that reminded him of this painting. He went on to tell me that he had lost his wife to a battle with cancer and that this made him think of her both leaving this world and arriving into the next. As he continued speaking, tears welled up again into his eyes and he asked me if I had titled the piece. I had not. He asked me what I thought of the title, “There She Goes”. I liked the suggestion and agreed that it was a fitting name for the piece. I knew that I couldn’t sell it before the show so I was pleased he had not asked a price. He asked the price. I sold it to him. I will paint another one for the show. Life is just too precious. I made this man so joyful and the mere thought that my art could ever move someone, even if just this once, is enough to keep me going on this artistic journey. He later mailed me the poem:
Gone from My Sight
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails
To the morning breeze and start for the blue ocean
She is the object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length
She hangs like a cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
And now I say “there she goes!”
Then someone at my side says, “There she is gone!”
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and spar
As she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load
of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at that moment when someone at my side says,
“There, she is gone!” there are eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout,
“Here she comes!” –
and that is dying.