All This Hart Can Do is March On

Life comes at you fast I think we can all agree. Such as my dear friend the rose. It's beauty is anticipated for months, then weeks, and then days. Once it begins to bloom it reminds us of how quickly young ones can change and mature; the following day it opens a bit more into its adolescent life where it is just beginning to fully bloom; and by the third day, the rose has completely opened and is beautiful as it knows that any day now it's petals could fall off and it will wither away. It is the process of life.

I have always pondered about the way of life and how people believe it to be silly. To me, life is joy; pure joy. We have known nothing but life, and it is wonderful and mysterious, so how could one call it ugly and pointless? Have you taken the time to look around and see what outstanding creations live among you? Just today as my family and I were starting down the hill of Oakland to begin our six hour journey home, we noticed the scene. It was unlike anything I have seen on that hill for all the many years I have passed by that same gap of trees. There were no clouds, absolutely none. The smog was nonexistent, the marine layer had passed, and the sun was shining down on the city of San Francisco. Never before had I realized how lucky people are on that single hill in Oakland to wake up to that view every morning and sadly most take it for granted. Even in the most "trashy" places in the sunny state of California, I found 10 seconds of utter beauty. It is the process of life.

The life I know is full of hatred and disgust, but in the bad there is always good. Thankfully I am reminded of that every morning as I walk outside my front door with my mom waving goodbye to me and saying, "Have a great day!", and my baby sister calling out, "I wud you Kiki!"; as I walk down the green steps of my mothers entry way, and glance at the new yellow roses immediately to my right. It is everywhere; It is the process of life.

This rose represents my grandmother Louise who passed away last July. She was the most optimistic woman I have ever met. Her life was like a rose (a red one considering that was her favorite color). At the end of her life she gave it all for that one last petal to stay on it's stem to see one more day of light. Boy, she did a fantastic job, she never gave up, instead our dear dear Lord took her from her misery and strife. She had been holding on so long, that her last petal withered before it fell; Grandma Louise did not give up. During the last few weeks of her life, I created this picture in hope that she would be able to see my art, to see what I made for her and give her hope that she could conquer again. When I was told that my grandmother would not be able to see anything I could show her because of how sedated she was, I put down my pen. I could not keep creating the rose that was only meant for her eyes to see because dear Grandma could not see. My last encounter with Grandma Hart was a sight I will never forget and one that I cannot bear to relive by sharing with you, but when I saw her, I took my pen and began to draw. I couldn't give up on her and had to let her see it. Before I was able to visit her and show her one last time, she passed...
It is the process of life.

Today this picture is finished and here is how it turned out. All This Hart Can Do is March On is complete and shows how life, even in the bad leaves an everlasting effect of beauty on someones heart.

I love you Gramma, we will march on...