Full Circle, Beginnings and Endings

 

My brother Denny and my mom in the 1950s

This has been quite a year so far, a time of quiet reflection, of rediscovering passion, of circling back to childhood, of reconnecting with people who loved my family and who love me. It has also been a time of unspeakable loss, beginning with the sudden death of my brother at the end of February and the precarious nature of life itself even in the present, as other loved ones face down illness and more. And in the middle of all of it, I had an amazing opportunity to exhibit my work, which is one of the greatest honors of my life, sharing my work with the public and hearing their comments and feedback.

Working on the exhibition interfered with my grieving process. Because I am an artist, I was grateful to be able to begin finding my way again through sitting quietly and making art as I prepared for it. I mentioned one of the new pieces, Traveler, in a previous blog post, which I finished and dedicated to my brother. Following the gentle rhythm of my ideas and trusting the process, I kept working.

I finished a second piece, Talisman, that ended up being a trip down the rabbit hole back into my childhood family and my own childhood. The eggs at the bottom are my siblings; the five of us, now down to three. There are many childhood references, address numbers, birthdates, toys, moving parts, game pieces, a clock face, a broken Swiss army knife. A whiff of the past that pulsed through my veins into the present, as I let it come out in the work. It's one of my favorite pieces. Value the process.

Talisman by Gayle Pritchard, 2021

So, I go 'round and 'round, my head and heart spinning and breaking as I try to return to joy. This is the energy of the week of an total eclipse, the psychics and astrologers say, a week where it is time to be quiet and reflect while the full circle is completed. Clear the way for the future, make room for what is coming.

Grief and loss can consume a person. The path to living, however, is digging your way out from the abyss. That takes resilience, a highly undervalued skill developed through adversity; a skill that allows humans to completely lose their way and still come back, full circle, once again, to brings their gifts back to the world. What I am truly grateful for, as always, is that I know how I will heal; it will be the same way I have always healed: picking up the bits and pieces, fragments of memories and conversations, glimpses into another's soul, while I wait for what is mine, a gift from the universe.

This last artwork says it all, which is why I bought it from my friend Jill Milenski when it spoke to my heart. I have it hanging in my home where I can see it several times a day. It will be my new mantra for now.