Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
2023
Watercolor on Paper
Found frame from the subject’s apartment
This is one of the most difficult paintings I have made.
In 2020, I was involved in processing an eviction for a resident. It was my first time handling something like that. As the court date approached, he told me that he was going to die that day.
I tried to reassure him. I told him everything was going to be okay and to take it one deep breath at a time.
He later died by suicide.
Weeks passed before we knew what had happened. Eventually, my boss asked me to check his apartment. I went in with a maintenance technician, opened the closed bedroom, and found him.
It was the first time I had ever seen a dead person.
For a long time afterward, I struggled with the feeling that somehow I had played a part in what happened. I had filed the paperwork. I had been part of the eviction process. I had spoken to him before he died. My mind kept connecting those things and asking what I could have done differently.
This painting became a way for me to process feelings I did not really know what to do with.
On the left, I painted myself holding something that resembles a gun, even though it is not literally one. On the right is the moment of death, with the bullet suspended among fragments and black hearts. Visually, it puts me on one side and his death on the other because that was how guilt made the experience feel to me. Like somehow I had been holding the weapon.
The words “I love you... forever” make the painting even more complicated. To me, they are about grief for someone I barely knew in comparison to the enormous impact his death had on my life. Sometimes a person can enter your life briefly and still leave something behind that you carry for years.
The frame surrounding the painting came from his apartment. I kept it and eventually used it for this piece. That makes the frame more than decoration. It physically connects the painting to the person and the place that inspired it.
I cannot change what happened. I cannot know everything he was experiencing or what might have changed the outcome. What I can do is remember that behind paperwork, rent, court dates, jobs, and responsibilities there is always a human being whose entire life cannot be seen from the outside.
I told him to take life one deep breath at a time. Years later, I think part of this painting is me still trying to take that breath myself.
If you are struggling with thoughts of suicide or feel like you may hurt yourself, please reach out to someone. In the United States, you can call or text the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 for free, confidential support.
2023
Watercolor on Paper
Found frame from the subject’s apartment
This is one of the most difficult paintings I have made.
In 2020, I was involved in processing an eviction for a resident. It was my first time handling something like that. As the court date approached, he told me that he was going to die that day.
I tried to reassure him. I told him everything was going to be okay and to take it one deep breath at a time.
He later died by suicide.
Weeks passed before we knew what had happened. Eventually, my boss asked me to check his apartment. I went in with a maintenance technician, opened the closed bedroom, and found him.
It was the first time I had ever seen a dead person.
For a long time afterward, I struggled with the feeling that somehow I had played a part in what happened. I had filed the paperwork. I had been part of the eviction process. I had spoken to him before he died. My mind kept connecting those things and asking what I could have done differently.
This painting became a way for me to process feelings I did not really know what to do with.
On the left, I painted myself holding something that resembles a gun, even though it is not literally one. On the right is the moment of death, with the bullet suspended among fragments and black hearts. Visually, it puts me on one side and his death on the other because that was how guilt made the experience feel to me. Like somehow I had been holding the weapon.
The words “I love you... forever” make the painting even more complicated. To me, they are about grief for someone I barely knew in comparison to the enormous impact his death had on my life. Sometimes a person can enter your life briefly and still leave something behind that you carry for years.
The frame surrounding the painting came from his apartment. I kept it and eventually used it for this piece. That makes the frame more than decoration. It physically connects the painting to the person and the place that inspired it.
I cannot change what happened. I cannot know everything he was experiencing or what might have changed the outcome. What I can do is remember that behind paperwork, rent, court dates, jobs, and responsibilities there is always a human being whose entire life cannot be seen from the outside.
I told him to take life one deep breath at a time. Years later, I think part of this painting is me still trying to take that breath myself.
If you are struggling with thoughts of suicide or feel like you may hurt yourself, please reach out to someone. In the United States, you can call or text the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 for free, confidential support.