Our elders say bad news comes in threes; I guess the lesson is to listen when they’re still around.
In addition to these two stellar lights of American art & history who are about one degree to my family, a lady I’m privileged to have been able to call Auntie, wife of a celebrated artist & a gifted artist & teacher in her own right, passed today from long-term non-COVID19 complications when I’d barely had time to welcome my own mom home after they’d stayed at the same facility (in different wings). The first call came this morning.
I was raised a musician in a family of musicians. My playmates who were her kids were raised visual artists in a family of same — but we were trained & encouraged in each others’ arts (they took instrumental lessons & sang with my mom; I happily wound godseyes till my hands bled and I ran out of yarn).
My dad had the formal designation of official family FOTOGRAPHAH, but Auntie always encouraged me even when I almost blew the kiln out trying to fire clay, as long as I helped to clean up ... and the first time I started trying to shoot seriously for holiday cards, she kept the one out that I sent to their house in a prominent place so everybody could see
Because of her, I can do this
Miss you, Auntie – the world doesn’t have the same colors without you in it