Brandy Ink

Bring it on Universe!

"You miss 100% of the shots you never take."

I'm not much of a hockey fan, but I've always really loved this quote. And it seems fitting, since I'm in love with a hockey player. And even more fitting because I'm scared to marry him (gulp). Am I going to miss my shot?

Coming up on our two year (dating) anniversary, I've started to question things like marriage... and then of course, when would it be an appropriate time for my kids to start calling him dad? And why am I so scared shitless when I ask myself those two questions? And no, it's not because I don't love him or think he's wonderful, it's all to do with myself and my fears... including the whole widow/orphan thing etc.

The thought of it all seems really overwhelming. I'm actually feeling a bit panicked about it, and I know I shouldn't... but after I realized it had almost been two years, it made me feel like I need to start thinking more "long term-ish", rather than "live in the moment-ish". You know?

So, here I go. I'm putting it out for all of you, and the universe, to bring me the answers I need. Putting it out there is always the first step in reaching some clarity. Bring it on universe!

To be continued...

Four years.

I remember reading this poem and feeling like it was written for me. I remember feeling like I would never get over it. Never move on. I remember feeling like my whole world had crumbled and that I would never be able to pick up all the pieces. I remember feeling like the cloud in my heart would never lift.

And now... four years has passed since Chris died and I don't even really know how I should feel today. I sort of feel relieved, but I also feel sad. I started off the day today by going through an old blog... I sort of kept a diary after he died of things that happened. Sad things. Happy things. Anniversaries. Milestones. Here’s an expert from the one year anniversary of his death:

September 22, 2007   “September 22nd, a day in 2006 where I suffered the greatest tragedy I hope to ever have. I lost my husband in a motorcycle accident. This year has been so hard that there aren't words to describe it. I've shed many tears and had many days where I just wanted to crawl up in bed and cry. I've listened to my children, who also suffered major grief, talk of their daddy and how much they miss him. I've had to tell my five year old, what happened to her daddy's body, and explain cremation and cemeteries and funerals... and I've had to tell my three year old over and over again, that her daddy is never coming back. And as many times as I tell her, she keeps on asking. I think she’s hoping that one day I will break down and say YES.”

Man... I can remember feeling so broken. As I read through my old blogs this morning I got pretty choked up. All the memories that I had tucked away, all came rushing back. The memories of the police officers in my office telling me that Chris had died and me not believing it. The memories of me telling my three and five year old children that their daddy was dead. The memories of Keiryn being scared to ride her bike because she thought she might die like her dad. The memories of caskets, and ashes, and funerals.... It's all so icky and actually, I'd prefer to tuck it all away again, and focus on the good things that have come from all of it.

Today I sit here on the four year anniversary of losing Chris and I'm relieved. I'm relieved that it feels over. Things are easy again. I've come into my own... I feel like a different person. A better person. I've overcome fears, I've gained more confidence in myself, I've learned a lot about people and mostly, I've learned about myself. I've let all those bad memories go. I've released them. I've found peace and solitude in my art again. I've found LOVE again. I feel good. I feel happy. I feel loved. The more time that goes by, the better it feels. The hurt lessens. The kids are themselves again.

But, it's still sad for me. It's sad that my kids will never know their dad. It's sad that they've let go of the hope that he will float down on a cloud to see them. It's sad that they've stopped dreaming about him. It's sad that Keiryn no longer phones him on her fake cell phone asking him to come home. It's sad that they are starting to forget him. It's sad that he's been gone for half of their lifetime.

I miss him. I miss his bad attitude. I miss his good looks. I miss seeing him with the kids. I miss his smile. I miss his bad-boy charm. I miss the way he loved me. And it breaks my heart that he's gone.  Last night I poured a glass of wine and thought about life. About love. About experiences. About loss. I thought about how I know in my heart that it doesn’t matter what I am given, or dished out, because I can totally handle it. I know that from every experience in life, good or bad, I will learn something. I know that I can’t change the things that have happened in my life so far but I do have the choice on how I handle these things and what happens next. I know that even if I can't choose how things begin, I can certainly choose how they end. I know that I can ALWAYS choose happiness. And if all else fails, I can always have a few more glasses of wine.

"Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending" ~ Marice Robinson

"A New Ending" | 11" x 14" | Zebra duct tape :) collage, and acrylics on paper

Tomorrow

Tomorrow I will visit somewhere I've never been before. The FOUR year anniversary of my husband's death. It's new to me. I've done the one year anniversary, and the two year, and even the three year, but I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow. I'm not sure how I'll celebrate his life. I'm not sure how I'll deal with the grief. I won't know until it happens. But, the first thing I want to do... before tomorrow even starts is...

Complete a piece of art tonight. And then tomorrow, I will blog about what it means to me. I will share my day. My thoughts. About Chris. About life. About death. About my art. I hope to see you back here...

Tomorrow night.

PS. I stole the number "4" from google images.

All things beautiful.... and motorcycles

My daughter Keiryn was only 3 years old when she lost her dad to the motorcycle accident. I find myself wishing that she will always remember him but I know in my heart that she was just too young at the time and the only thing that will keep the memories alive will be the photos and stories that we share. She can't possibly remember him forever can she? I'm thinking back to when I was three and I don't remember a darn thing.

I took her shopping on the weekend for school clothes. She had a clothing allowance and I left it up to her to pick out her own clothes so that she'd actually WEAR them. She has a habit of wearing the same shirt everyday because she's picky. Anyway... she was almost out of money but still had TWO shirts that she wanted but only enough money for ONE. She asked my opinion.... and then she hummed and hawed for a good ten minutes.... and then she finally told me that she'd made her decision. The first t-shirt was purple and sparkly and it had birds and butterflies and all things beautiful on it and the second one was blue with a motorcycle on it. When I asked her how she made up her mind (because I really expected her to pick the "prettier" one) she simply stated, "It reminds me of Dad."

Awwh.... it just about broke my darn heart but I'm happy that for now, she still remembers.

Father's Day

This coming September will mark four years since I lost my husband (Chris) to a tragic motorcycle accident. Wow. Four years. In some ways it feels like twenty years, but in other ways it seems like yesterday. The whole grieving process is really a strange thing.

I usually dread Father's Day because it always feels like a HUGE, GLEAMING reminder of how he isn't here anymore. But, this year is going to be different. It's still gonna suck because he isn't here, but this year, it's all about Chris. We will finally bury his ashes at the cemetery so that he has a nice spot that we can go visit, and leave flowers, and talk to him. This should have been done a long time ago but for some reason his mother and I have been putting it off. Maybe because we don't want it to be over? For him to really be gone... it just feels so FINAL.

I feel torn about the whole thing. In some ways I'm sad, that I'm closing the chapter on what was once his life (and mine). But, in other ways I'm relieved, that the hard part is over with and things are starting to feel easy again. It's a darn long road. And there is never a day that goes by where I don't think of him.

I guess I'm looking forward to the burial. We plan to share funny memories of Chris, and trust me, there are a LOT of those! I'm looking forward to the laughs to lighten the mood. There will be a small box, which will contain his ashes, but there is also room for everyone to put something in. The girls are busy thinking about what special keepsake that they would like to bury with their dad. And so am I. And honestly, the whole thing seems surreal. Even though he's been gone almost four years, I can't believe his ashes will be in a box, in the ground. It's just weird. And sad. And I'm finding that it's bringing up a whole bunch of feelings that I thought were tucked away forever.

Anyway... make sure you give your fathers an extra squeeze this year on Father's Day. When I look at my girls and think about how they will never know their father, it makes me feel darn lucky that I have one of my own. It is truly something to be cherished.

Love is in the air

www.etsy.com/shop/den10studio

Check this woman out. www.den10studio.blogspot.com I'm not actually sure what she's up to, because I just started following her blog. But I find her interesting. I'm intrigued. She makes pretty things. She refurnishes vintage furniture. It appears that perhaps she's an illustrator/designer, but I don't really know for sure because I haven't had time to really investigate hard core. I've only skimmed. Oh, and there's music playing while you read her blog. I'm not sure how she set that up, but it's pretty cool. Anyway...

The reason I am talking about her is because I borrowed the above print to feature as my art today. When I saw this, it reminded me of Grady. And how it's our one year anniversary tonight of when we met. Wow. Good for us! It's been an emotional roller coaster of working it out with the kids and moving on from the past, but I am so thankful to have found someone that loves me for me. And I'm thankful to have met someone that treats me how I want to be treated. He's a sweetheart. And I love him.

Happy Anniversary honey.

Color in love

Today I will share one of the most powerful and moving experiences I have yet had in my life. It is a perfect example of why I love being surrounded by art and artist friends. Art is the one thing that always seems to move me in a way that nothing else can.

We all have our different opinions about art. Some of us love a certain painting only because it matches our couch perfectly, some of us love a certain piece because of the feelings it evokes when we look at it, some of us are just in total awe of the talent that the artist has, and some of us could give a rip about art, and that's okay too. But, today I will share a unique experience that ANYONE will love. This is my personal experience on how art can have such an impact, that it can actually leave you feeling differently. For me... well, it left me feeling warm, for the first time in weeks.

After my husband passed away, when I was still in a complete state of disbelief and I was just totally lost... a group of local artists got together and made a collaborative art piece for me. Seriously, this is so special. An honor really.

I can barely remember who brought it by my shop. I think it was a lady who dropped it off, but I can't really remember her. That part is a fog to me. But, when I opened it up, and read the letter attached to the back of it, I was changed forever. I was touched so deeply by their gesture that I will never forget the exact feeling I had when I read their explanation for the piece. I was overwhelmed by a sense of love and support. I felt sad, but thankful. And for a moment, I didn't feel alone. Still today, every time I look at this piece, I feel loved. Here is the message that was attached to the back of it:

To Brandy and two precious girls!

A few artists and invited guests gathered for a regular Arrowsmith Gallery closing of season party on the 30th of September. We had planned a little Mystery Art Event which was unknown to everyone who arrived and it was a joint paint pouring collaborative project.

We all decided that this was a perfect time to remember you Brandy at this very difficult moment in your life. Your loss of Chris in such a tragic way has impacted all of us and we have felt your pain very deeply. No one can make this right for you and those precious girls but we knew that in these weeks to come there would be some way we could cheer you up and to let you know that we are thinking of you and value all that you have done for us in the arts community.

This painting was heart felt and carries all the hopes and dreams of a new life for you, one that can be filled again with hope and joy and newness.

Those who poured a little color in love for you were:

• Karen and Niel Arrowsmith
• Beth Penny and Dave Coe
• Victoria Henriksen and Heath Cara
• Joanne and Hugh Wiley
• Maureen Cameron
• Artis and Ed Williams
• Elaine Lester
• Alison and Ted Diakiw
• Frank Wishlow
• Linda Anderson
• Jackie and Clem Verhoeven

Man. Every time I read that, I can't help but think about how lucky I am. Thank you to all the artists who were a part of that. It's a painting that I hold dear to my heart. It makes me feel so appreciative for all the love and support I have in my life. Every day. It's awesome.

Thank You.