Ghost Buildings

Photo credit Helsing

There is a kind of afterlife that exists in our physical world.  Our actions and experiences continue to resonate long after the situations they were born in are gone.  Whether our loved one is with us, in another place, or dead, these experiences make up a great deal of our relationship.  New experiences merely add on to the sum.  Those we love always leave their mark on us.

Walker Road Demolition Photo credit Rob Ayre

The phenomenon of ghost dwellings,  accidental results of demolition, speaks to this kind of afterlife in a striking way.  Created when one structure is removed from a shared wall of another, the ghost dwelling reveals physical evidence of the life that was shared there.

Photo credit Dermographix

As a coral reef grows into a habitat for new life, it's structure made up of the bones of it's departed citizens, our world too, is the land of ghosts.

The castle-in-the-air theory Photo Credit Bernat_83

In grieving, we wonder if our loved one will still be with us somehow.  Will he be looking down on me, watching, maybe sending down subtle signs of love or advice?  Will our relationship continue?  Will it grow?  Will it simply become a monologue and wither away?

Photo Credit Evan Helfrich

The grieving may want their loved one back with them to share in their present and future, but it is nonetheless a certainty that our dead continue to live on in us.  The experiences we've shared with them shape even our understanding of the world, not to mention the shapes and patterns of our daily thoughts and ruminations.

Multicolor Photo Credit Carmen Alonso

Let us imagine then, as we look at these buildings; do we see loss?  Do we see evidence of absence?  If so, we must also acknowledge the shared bonds and experiences that will not disappear as long as one of the partners stands.

How do we move on after loss?  Perhaps the ghost buildings can help us to see an answer to this as well.  We will never be able to re-form what had been there.  We cannot place a new flight of stairs where we see the evidence of an old flight.  

Railway Bridge Wall Photo Credit Jane Parker

But we need not fear losing the bonds and life that has been shared.  Though time may pass, and we may start a new relationship with the world; the bonds that have shaped us and knit us to our loved one will last as long as we will.

Navigating Loss

http://www.verkstad.com/navloss.html

Seattle based artist, Monika Lidman explores her experiences in process of losing of her father in her series 'Navigating Loss'. For the full series, visit Verkstad.com

"My earliest memories involve swimming with my father. In this series, ship flags, used to warn other vessels about navigating conditions, provide a metaphor for intergenerational communication at the end of life.

http://www.verkstad.com/navloss.html

For ten years, I have been painfully aware of my father’s decline. While some held out for the promise of returning health, I did not allow myself that particular luxury that denial affords.

I wanted to stay grateful, keenly aware of this phase of his journey, believing, however erroneously, that my attention and observations would somehow ease, or better prepare me for his inevitable departure.

http://www.verkstad.com/navloss.html

It was perfectly clear that this last stage of the voyage was lacking in maps and tools for navigation, yet my parents provided an excellent model of grace and patience – with one another as well as with their situation.

http://www.verkstad.com/navloss.html

In the end, I am no better prepared for death than most. I can say that careful observation and staying very present have provided both insight and a gift.
-Monika Lidman http://www.verkstad.com/navloss.html

Working Out Grief in Art

Everyone, it seems, must find their own path in working through the grief of losing a loved one. We should never tell a grieving person that we know what they are going through because we can't know -each grief is unique. While it may be essential for one person to return to work right away, for another, taking a long respite may be the best path. The important thing is that we listen to ourselves and feel empowered to do what we feel we must do to work through our grief, and move forward toward acceptance and involvement in life. Artist Cathy Weber of Dillon, Montana found a way to work through what she describes as her own 'paralyzing grief' through her art work.
"In the fall of 1994, when I was 3 months pregnant (having had several earlier miscarriages), my partner of 12 years, Jack, was diagnosed with a soft tissue sarcoma of which he died nearly 2 years later in August of 1996. In the interim we endured the horrors of multiple surgeries and chemotherapeutic assaults and our son, Rio, was born.
In my own experience of paralyzing grief, it has occurred to me that humans love, die and experience profound heartache as a common element of our lives. Although the painful suffering of grief is a very personal and often private process few of us manage to escape it. With the pictures I am making now, I hope to translate my own grieving process into a series of images in which the viewers can recognize and honor themselves.
Upon Jack's death, I began to make notations and sketches for a series of pictures based on my feelings and emotional experiences. For the first 18 months I was unable to face them in my studio but notions continued to present themselves and I continued to take notes. The finished body of work is made up of 20 pieces. Three contain stitched images that I made during endless hours at hospital bedsides." for the full text, and views of the entire series, visit the site http://www.dyingwell.com/griefseries/Main.htm