Peace & Perseverance

Last summer, I began developing the series, “Peace & Perseverance.” I set out with a few goals in mind: use some of the larger frames I’d been hoarding for years, and do something relating to the curving, mysterious live oak trees of New Orleans.

And although I started this collection more than nine months ago, these pieces will always be the first I completed following my father’s death in September. Call it what you will, but I believe I knew, even before his death, that these pieces would be a reflection of grief.

This winter, I developed a mantra to help me through difficult emotions and periods of overwhelm. I repeat “peace and perseverance” to myself before meditating, say it before lighting candles, and write it while journaling.

I live near several of New Orleans’ storied tree-lined avenues, and I marvel at the hanging branches of our live oak trees on my daily commute to school drop-off.

But when New Orleans was hit with a freak snowstorm last winter, I saw the silhouetted branches of these impressive trees in a new light. The typically lush branches draped in Spanish moss were now slick with snow and ice, and I could see the depth of shadow and darkness of each branch.

I immediately began photographing, sketching, and painting sprawling branches.

In New Orleans in the summer, we seek out shade as a necessity, and the overhanging trees take on a new importance. There is beauty and peace in the shade, in the shadow of a tree. I knew I not only wanted to depict the forms of the trees, but the ethereal shadows they cast.

Building on the work I started with The Bell Jar Collection, I wanted to use depth and layering to capture changing shadows and light with this new series. And after several failed attempts and countless trips to Home Depot, I built custom wooden boxes to fit each of the nine vintage frames I selected for the project.

Each piece is a self-contained world. The shadows morph and shift throughout the day, highlighting and shading different aspects of the muted, airy background canvases.

As I worked on while grieving my father, the importance and meaning of the trees evolved.

Our city’s bending live oak trees are hundreds of years old and have withstood hurricanes, freezes, power lines, and Mardi Gras floats. They represent legacy, resiliency, growth, and permanence in an ever-changing world.

For me, this collection of nine works is many things at once. Nostalgia and optimism, simplicity and complexity, permanence and volatility.

In typical fashion, I finished the last of the series the day before displaying them at the Covington Three Rivers Art Festival in November. At that event, I sold Peace & Perseverance #5 to the most beautiful family. After reading my social posts about my father, the buyer sent me the following,

“I read your grief post and am so very grateful you decided to persevere yourself and set up your booth. We will treasure this piece, and it will be hung over our mantle. We love it so much, and we will always feel connected to you as we enjoy it!”

I reread this message often to remind myself that my work is important and that, through darkness, there is light.

My hope for all of us is peace and perseverance.