My wife's grandmother passed away just before I began this piece and with a consistancy I've come to expect, but never remember to expect, the painting speaks for the power of the moment. Laura was a lovely woman who, under some awful circumstances, managed to always maintain the strength of her role as a mother and grandmother. She rolled with the punches and was a very special person in my wife's world. During one conversation with my wife about the loss of her grandmother I said: "You know, death is a real asshole." And it is. I'm angry with death because it is so ridiculously final. The door gets shut, never to physically be openened again. NEVER. I hate that.
This painting seems to reflect this attitude, but clearly with part of me trying to explain that this is the natural progression of life and that wonderment, diversity, change & growth in life could never happen without death. It is why so many of our past, and some of our present cultures give such honour to the process and assign symbols and ultra potent beings to represent its inevitability and power.