Sudie Rakusin's Blog, page 3

Savannah Blue's New Little Brother

Last Sunday, my friend Sara drove me to Albemarle so I could meet boxer mix puppies being offered for adoption by Stanly County Humane Society.  This is what happened: 

How could I resist such a sweet face?

His name is Marmalade Moon.  He was born June 3, 2010 so he is nine weeks old and still quite the cuddler. 

He's settling in nicely at home with me, although he's skinnier than I'd like.  I toss his kibble across the floor for him to chase, so dinnertime is a game.  I have puppy bite and claw marks all around my ankles, but I'm so in love, I don't mind.  And when you see these beautiful gray eyes and boxer smile, can you blame me?

My Family Tree

I have been working on the ninth 3-D painting in my Renaissance Paintings in the 21st Century series for quite some time. During those months, one of my Great Danes, my beloved boy, Marley Bone, was diagnosed with osteosarcoma and then was gone only four weeks later. Three weeks after that, I had to say good-bye to my brave and sassy girl, Lola Dove, whom I had seen through two hip replacement surgeries, arthritis, and Wobblers Syndrome. For the first time in 30 years, I find myself without animal companions sharing my home and the hole they've left is immense and very real.

Lola Dove & Marley Bone

In the middle of these losses and several other events in my life, this painting has been slowly emerging, creeping up on me almost, until at last I was able to truly see it and feel the power it holds for me. As with most of my paintings, this one is filled with animal companions – some that leap, some that fly, some that run majestically on four legs – and with trees and landscapes that are soothing and nurturing. I feel quite at home in this painting; perhaps that is why I am choosing to call it My Family Tree.

These two images show where the painting began:

My Family Tree, beginning sketch

My Family Tree, early painting

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

And here's an example of how the painting changed even after I'd been painting for more than two months: Moon, the goat featured here (who is a companion of Tera Thomas's at Hummingbird Farm), was originally going to stand in front of a woman's cream-colored dress, but that felt too boring for my tastes.

Moon, Take 1

This is how Moon and the woman's dress appear currently:

Moon, Take 2

I spent most of last Thursday painting the hairs on this cat:

And this week, I've painted Marley Bone and Lola Dove into a small painting that will hang on a wall in the larger painting, as well as my own self-portrait, including the mended heart pendant by Mirinda Kossoff, fellow artist at FRANK in Chapel Hill, that called my name and has become a cherished talisman through the sadnesses of this summer.

So while my house and studio have appeared emptier than I am accustomed to, this painting – sketched and planned months before any of these losses presented themselves – has enabled me to draw loving and supporting energies into my life and focus on the natural places where I find healing and solace. My art always gives my life structure and purpose, but this painting is also performing the nearly magical role of helping me see my life as it relates to others and the much larger contexts in which I exist.

When was the last time art helped mend your broken heart? I'd love to hear about it.