My brother Georgie was bigger than life, literally and figuratively. He had a big voice, which he was not shy about using, a big body and a big heart. He refused to get vaccinated against COVID and managed to avoid it until the end of January, 2022. He fought for 3 weeks but he could not overcome it. When he was still able to text me, our conversations were sometimes tense as I urged him to agree to treatments in spite of his mistrust of the medical system. It was such a tense and scary time.

Since transitioning from a management position in hospital social work to a part time job, I had started to paint so now, in between working and fraught phone calls with the medical team, I spent time in my studio, painting about my fear, anger, dread and hope against hope that Georgie would not die. When it was clear that he could not survive, I watched him take his last breath on Zoom. In the immediate aftermath of his death, I had no desire to paint. Eventually, this changed and I did several paintings about my sadness and everything that comes with losing a special person. Most siblings are close and have a special bond. Being almost 12 years older than Georgie, we had that bond from day one. It got strained in the presence of the political divide that has happened in our country but it never broke and it made me feel better to paint out my feelings.

When the Attleboro Museum of Art, a local museum in Massachusetts put out a Call for Artists, I applied and was one of 8 artists chosen by two jurors to exhibit in their annual 8 Visions Show in August. My series would be on Layers of Loss, Love and Longing and it touched not only on the death of my baby brother but also on endings: ending of our family business, ending of close family ties, ending of so many mundane and meaningful things.

I paint intuitively, meaning I usually have no set idea of what I will end up with. I allow my feelings, or words that come into my mind, to guide me in choosing my colors, marks, and shapes. For this series, I incorporated both collages of family photos or photo transfers, where the image is embedded into the canvas. At the museum, I displayed a copy of WHO WE LOST, open to my story “I Special Ordered My Brother” and named one of my paintings for the story. I painted VAX to express my fear, anger and frustration, especially because our society become so polarized around a public health emergency. For “Last Text,” I found an app that allowed me to download the text from Georgie’s phone and included the last message he was able to send, shortly after he said “I’m scared.” I tried to encourage him and on February 5th at 2p, he texted me a heart. Then he was intubated and there was no more communication. Bed 58 was his bed in ICU–it’s where I watched him take his last breath. “Everything is Muted” refers to how nothing is the same after losing someone special. Georgie loved being the life of the party and always encouraged me to act silly. He would tease me and make fun of me and he was never afraid to act like a fool for laughs either. “Party Rocket” captures that feeling for me. And in “Yellow Gold” I again include photos of the popcorn business that my father started in 1957 and that Georgie grew into a very successful enterprise. Finally, “We Three” includes photos of my sister, me, and George.

I confess that before the exhibit, I was a little worried that my work might be too personal and that viewers might not relate to it but after reading the comments that people wrote in my guest book, I am so happy to see so many found the work emotional and poignant and could connect my paintings with their own losses. I hope Georgie was happy to be the center of attention and I hope that he is proud of me. I will never not miss him and I will take any opportunity to talk about him and honor his memory.