A Year

Life is a summation of moments. Most are forgotten and taken for granted.  Some flash with such brilliance we stop.  My father’s diagnosis of cancer brought me to a halt.  “They” said he had a year to live.

 

A YEAR.

 

I sat in my studio incapable.  There, I keep a box of pantyhose scraps.  Years worth of dismissed pieces from artwork of the past.  Unnecessary at the time of creation, but deemed too precious to trash.  So began the sewing of these remembrances.  Joining, reprocessing, defining the remnants into months.  Nothing was to be wasted, not a bit or a thread.  Once this task was completed embellishments were added to evoke my impression of that month.  Again the box was filled.  From those collections the thirty one days emerged until nothing remained, including the year.

 

Thankfully my father is still alive.  “They” say he is doing well with the chemo and might get five more years.  FIVE YEARS.  Live every moment.

31 days in a Month

12 Months in a year

January
February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November
December
1/1

4 seasons

Seven days in a week

Sunday
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Saturday
1/1

365 Days

365 sketches
1/1