Tense? — Holding the Path

Tense?

There’s a moment when everything begins to shift.
Not all at once, but unmistakably.

You’ve been keeping pace. Managing what’s in front of you.
And then something changes—quietly at first, then with a weight that’s hard to name.

This is where Tense? begins.
Not in the aftermath of loss, but at the edge of it.
The moment when you realize: you’re no longer walking beside someone, you’re trying to catch what’s falling.

The Descent Begins

When my father was dying, there came a day when I noticed the shift.
He was still with me—still reaching—but less and less able to hold on.

His appetite faded.
His words softened.
His body began its slow, steady decline.

I had been moving in rhythm with him. Every need met. Every moment accounted for.
Then, suddenly, the rhythm faltered.

It’s hard to explain how fast everything changes, even when you’ve been preparing for the change all along.
Grief doesn’t always wait for death to arrive. Sometimes, it starts long before the end.

And sometimes, it arrives without warning.

My friend Joni—a brilliant photographic portrait artist from New Zealand—died in a car accident not long ago.
There was no time to prepare.
No goodbye.

Her absence hit like a rupture.
Sudden. Violent. Unfair.

The difference between her passing and my father’s couldn’t be starker.
One slow. One instant.
Both painful.
Each is disorienting in its own way.

Tense? was made before either of those losses reached their final point.
It lives in the tension of knowing—and still being powerless to stop what’s coming.

Why This Work Matters

This drawing holds the emotional strain of watching things shift, accelerate, unravel—whether you know it’s coming or not.
Whether you had time to prepare… or didn’t get the chance.

It’s for the caregivers, the witnesses, the ones doing their best to stay upright while the ground moves beneath them.

It’s also for those who have lost suddenly—who didn’t get to say goodbye, or didn’t even know they needed to.

Grief has many entries.
It doesn’t always arrive through death.

Sometimes it shows up after a diagnosis.
After a fractured friendship.
After the life you imagined quietly slips out of reach.

We grieve relationships, identities, places, futures.
We grieve people who are still alive, but no longer reachable.
We grieve the slow unraveling and the sudden tear.

Tense? speaks to all of this.
Not just to the moment of loss, but to the moment before—when you’re still holding on.

About the Series: Holding Pattern

This piece is part of Holding Pattern, a series of eight original drawings created in the months surrounding my father's passing.

The series traces the nonlinear nature of grief—
how it loops, lingers, and sometimes leaves us suspended in place.

Each work captures a different threshold.

Tense? is one of the earliest.
It lives at the point of imbalance.
Where you know what’s coming—
and the only thing left to do is brace, and pray your strength holds.

Artwork Details

Title: Tense?
Medium: Ink on 6 x 6 inch archival drawing tile (image is 4 x 4")
Signed: Front and back in graphite
Price: $295
Availability: Original available [tap here to view or purchase]

This is an original, one-of-a-kind artwork.
It may speak to you if you’ve ever:
– Held space for someone else’s decline
– Lost someone unexpectedly
– Faced the slow unraveling of something once solid
– Wondered if you could keep going when everything felt too heavy

This piece isn’t about answers.
It’s about presence.
It’s about staying—when staying is the hardest thing.

Why I Make Work Like This

To honor the complexity of grief.
To make space for the messy, unspoken parts of it.

So no one has to carry their pain alone.
So someone else can feel seen.

I don’t believe art fixes grief.
But it can hold it.
And holding, even just a little, can be enough.

Thank you for reading.
There’s more to come.