Woman Holding Small Hope For Spring

This piece is a self-portrait in many senses. Yes, I am there physically, but I hold a jar of daffodils not yet in bloom. A friend brought these to me, and they brought me so much joy, but they never bloomed and eventually died. I (like most people) am holding hope for things in my life that have little chance of happening, or little chance of making it. But still, I hold them close, learning to love the process of life even when it doesn’t work out how I thought. I’ve learned to be grateful for even the feeling of hope, whether it yields something or not. Behind me are my book shelves, which mostly hold art books. I love the lives and work of artists and spend as much time reading about them as I do making art. They are my friends and my comfort. I’ve learned they were all like me – they all had lives of difficulty and found beauty and truth wherever they could. These daffodils meant more to me than any flowers I have been given. Things don’t always have to bloom to be deeply meaningful.