I miss the mundane to-do lists from my Dad. I miss the supply run. The putter of routine.

Dad longed to be back at his chair in his last few weeks, longed to be back to his routine.

From Drawn Together:

My every-second-day visits are full and busy.  Fold the laundry, pack the clean cutlery and Tupperware into the cart, add the clean laundry to the pile, shove in the old envelopes, check if Roar needs any printouts, pack up the car with the dog and computer and journal and purse and sock monkey bag (just in case we watch a video together and I can sew).  Head to the grocery store for supplies: Gas-X, Listerine, toothbrush, toothpaste, razors, shaving crème, pens, paper, salami, cheese, grapes, granola bars, gum, chocolate, lollipops, instant coffee, ketchup, blackcurrant jam, air freshener.  Pick up a bottle of whiskey, new art supplies, and pizza.  Load it into the room. Give the room a good clean.  Load in supplies and laundry, fill fridge.  Put dirty laundry and orange juice containers (my father saves the extra ones for me) into cart.  Grab the envelopes of news clippings he has collected for us.  Get Roar ready, pack his messenger bag, head to cafeteria to the favorite table (it must always be the same table), get fresh coffee, ice cream, etc., go through to-do list, get down to work.  After a couple of hours, take him back up to his room, unload his stuff, give him the time to check that we didn’t forget anything, grab the dog, dirty laundry and hug and kiss goodbye.  Ensure his phone is plugged in and routine is adhered to!

I find grocery shopping difficult.  That is missing-time.  It was the same after my mom passed away.  They were both so infused in my life.

I miss the mundane to-do lists from my Dad.  I miss the supply run.  The putter of his routine.  The structure that made sense.

Dad’s supplies:

… All [his] resistances, all [his] faults, all [his] unexpectedness.  That is, in [his] foursquare and independent reality.  And this, not any image or memory, is what we are to love still, after [he] is dead.

CS Lewis, A Grief Observed

See also:

Life has no opposite

Healing sock monkey watching over Dad

Document it.  All of it.

We’ve become a band of gypsies

Dad’s inner work

Dad’s last day

A pencil box. Regarded with reverence.

Change.  What does it mean?

Saudade- the emotion of missing

Drawn Together

Saying goodbye to Dad’s room with my brother and nephew. Photo by Darcy Glip.

Weekly artist exploration/journaling series: Week 3 Part 4 HUMAN FIGURE #LisaLarson #arttherapy

WEEK 3 Part 4: Lisa Larson

In this part, we’ll take a look at the more organic human figure sculptures by Lisa.

Playing on what we did in Part 3, use a bingo marker again to freely draw a simple human shape.  Have the figures arms stretched out.

Your sculpting in two-dimension actually.

Draw a circle or oval in between the hands.

Draw (“etch”) human details on the “sculpture” with Lisa Larson in mind.

And write.  On a different page.  Gibberish really.  But looking at the image you just made.  Wordplay where you simply  write each word as they come to mind. DO NOT STOP.

Close your eyes.  Turn your journal upside down.  Sit still for a minute.  Wave your hand in the air; then point to the page of words.

What’s the word your finger lands on?  Mine is BREATH.

Write it in the bubble.

You don’t have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.
– C. S. Lewis

Last part tomorrow:

Portrait and form

See also:

35 PART daily journal exercise

Weekly artist exploration/journaling series INTRO

Weekly artist exploration/journaling series Week 1 parts 1-6 FRIDA KAHLO

Weekly artist exploration/journaling series Week 2 parts 1-6 PICASSO

Weekly artist exploration/journaling series Week 3 LISA LARSON preface

Weekly artist exploration/journaling series Week 3 Part 1 LISA LARSON: This is Lisa

Weekly artist exploration/ journaling series Week 3 Part 2 LISA LARSON: ABC Girls

Weekly artist exploration/ journaling series Week 3 Part 3 LISA LARSON: Animals


Pippi Longstocking author, Astrid Lindgren (left), with Lisa:


Part 32 of 35 daily journal workshop. GRIEF. #arttherapy

LOSS.  What does that mean to you?  Are you scared of it?  Is the fear of losing someone or something preventing you from living now?  Have you experienced such profound loss that grief overwhelms you, and indeed, now shapes you?

Write it out.  Or draw it out.

There are no easy answers.  There is just process.  And breathing.  In and out.

Recommended reading:

A Grief Observed by CS Lewis

Speak, Memory by Vladimir Nabokov

Owning our grief:

Alana Sheeren believes in love, beauty and the transformative power of grief. After the stillbirth of her son she began writing about her personal journey into grief and whole-self healing. A Reiki Master with a MA degree in clinical and community psychology and a BFA in theater, Alana partners with women through the dance of grief, both individually and in healing retreats.  How does grief shape our lives? Does the way we experience it make a difference? Using personal stories, Alana opens up new ways of looking at grief and encourages us to stay open to its gifts and lessons. [source]

Frontline’s Facing Death:

How far would you go to sustain the life of someone you love, or your own? When the moment comes, and you’re confronted with the prospect of “pulling the plug,” do you know how you’ll respond?  In Facing Death, FRONTLINE gains extraordinary access to The Mount Sinai Medical Center, one of New York’s biggest hospitals, to take a closer measure of today’s complicated end-of-life decisions. In this intimate, groundbreaking film, doctors, patients and families speak with remarkable candor about the increasingly difficult choices people are making at the end of life: when to remove a breathing tube in the ICU; when to continue treatment for patients with aggressive blood cancers; when to perform a surgery; and when to call for hospice. [source]

Daily Journal Workshop: