The roof of this tomb moved me. It tells a story of youth, skill,
and possible tragedy. Maybe he choked to death or illness did him in.
But maybe death also involved a mistake in judgment, showing off or
taking a dare. The painting doesn't tell. I created an
environment for the tragic death. I wanted him cared for,
if that makes sense.
I borrowed an Egyptian Mourning Chorus to meet him under the sea.
I kept taking things away. It's pared down to the moment before death.
This week I opened some stored work from 10 years ago when I began
learning from Jude Hill. Her instruction, as always, was inspiring.
But my old cloth making disappointed me. So I began cutting it up to use again.
The words, "death gently carried him" were right there to
cushion this young diver. He feels cared for now.
I'm trying to break my habits of grids, etc. I just feel there's a new way
of stitching stories just out of my reach/sight for right now.
