Today is the third anniversary of Seth's death. This image is a ceramic tile that I painted to sit on his grave. His grave is at a monastery where all the grave markers are really simple: just cement crosses with no decoration, and so I thought that his needed a little something else. This tile won't be attached to the cross, but it can sit on top and it will withstand the weather.
It is, of course, the last page from Bob's Amazing Life. The caption is, "Bob has a great family". Yes, and Seth is the glue that holds together an otherwise pretty scattered assemblage.
5 comments:
The tile is so beautiful and so fitting! My dog woke me up in the middle of the night (something she rarely does unless it's because she has to pee), so I took her outside, where she just sat at my side, looking up at the stars. I had no other choice but to take in the moment, nowhere to go but back to bed, so I welcomed the cold winter air and observed the silence of Brooklyn that may only exist between the hours of 3 and 4 Am during a month as cold as January. Aware of the fact it was the dawn of the 30th, I could only think of Seth; it was as if he brought me outside to say "Hello Willa! Isn't this AMAZING?!" Something about the moment felt amazing. I can't believe it's been 3 years. I think Seth would be proud of how we've prevailed. He may be gone from this Earth, but his love and influence remains, impossible not to notice. Life is a merciless slug, but at least I have the memory of Seth everytime I'm reminded of that.
Willa,
Outside looking up at the stars was a perfect place to be on the dawn of a day of remembering Seth. I am glad you were looking out, observing the stars, not worried about the cold. I am glad that you are hearing his voice in various things that happen. I think that it is the small, fleeting moments where Something from outside our regular lives breaks in and we wonder, "Was that real?"--it is those moments that are the MOST real; they keep us reaching beyond our comforts for what is truly beautiful and lifegiving.
Vicki,
I also think the tile you made is really lovely and just right. Yesterday Kaleb and I spent the day together to spend sometime remembering Seth and what have learned from his life. We read some comics and talked about art, but more importantly spent some time together unhindered by our otherwise busy lives. I got to thinking about what would a day of celebration called Flowering Nose Day be like. If I were to designate this holiday, I would suggest the following sorts of activities to celebrate: Draw something fantastic, eat a banana, paint your toenails, wear a lizard costume to work, shave a funny shape in your chest hair or your eyebrows, talk to a stranger about something meaningful, do something that makes you slightly uncomfortable, do a dance to the merciless slug, wear a flowering nose, tell someone you love them.
Actually Sarah, when we were up at the monastery this weekend, I was thinking that maybe it would be nice for us each to paint a tile (at those paint-your-own-pottery places), or do some piece of whatever it is we do, and put all our different pieces on Seth's grave. They should be our designs, not his. I think the best tribute to him is to follow our own best vision, into uncharted territory if necessary, which is what he did. The idea of doing something that makes you somewhat uncomfortable is very much in the spirit of Seth, and is--at least in part--what made him grow as he did.
Friday night I sat on the balcony, which is unusual in the winter, and raised a glass of white wine to Seth (orange juice and bananas were consumed earlier in the day).
I think Flowering Nose Day sounds too, too cool. But, in a way, it’s every day…
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