We are not alone Painting

For the story behind this work, I offer a poem I wrote to accompany the painting: We are all human beings, flawed and still breathing. Our hearts go on beating. We are not alone. There is always a special kind of light to turn toward: the path of a vine twisting and turning across a wired fence, the morning dew on a lone leaf that stretches its body onto the cement, or the song of a stranger that somehow speaks only to us. I may feel alone from time to time but it is the familiar ache shared by person after person, time after time. It is loss and it is grief. It is the fear that no one can or will dare to know this pain by knowing me. And I don’t mean knowing the everyday faces we assume so that we can get on with daily chores and work and life. I am referring to our souls, the innermost layer of who we are, the keeper of every truth, every burden we’ve borne, every hurt, every bruise, every time we’ve been silent and every time we’ve tried to share the truth. Is it that knowing we are not alone will remind us of every ache we’ve tried so hard to forget before it sets us free?