06/12/2026
Some portraits sit a little differently in my hands. Feller’s is one of them.
He’s still on my easel, coming together slowly. Eight inches square, built up stroke by stroke in PanPastels and pastel pencil. Feller left far too soon, and I’m taking my time with him, because he deserves nothing less.
I’ve come to believe these portraits can be a kind of medicine for grief. For the families I create them for, and, if I’m honest, quietly for me too. When someone reaches out to have me paint a companion they’ve lost, I hold it with such care, because I know without being told how much that animal must have meant. You don’t just lose a pet. You lose a witness to your life.
I’ve been moving through my own season of grief lately, and strange as it sounds, it has made this work feel more like a calling than ever. Grief, when you let it move through you, has a way of deepening you. Softening the edges, widening your capacity for tenderness.
So this is for everyone who has had to say goodbye before they were ready. And it is for Feller. 🤍