Right before the big push to move Dad in, I discovered alcohol ink paintings. I used to make art, really all throughout my life in odd spurts and starts. I missed it. When I saw my first alcohol ink painting, I know I’m late to the scene, I was re-ignited to make it myself.
There is a back room on the 1st floor, which I turned into a functioning art studio. Not ideal (no windows, and who has heard of an art studio with no natural light!) but it serves. Pics Below…
Top pics are before clean out, and bottom two are post. Doesn’t look super different, but after some time in there it’s now full of art and light (although artificial).
From this time spent downstairs with my dad in the next room, and the going back and forth between spaces, I discovered something amazing. My Dad Paints!
Who knew! My mom said he never showed an interest in making art before. If one good thing came of this, I would say it’s my father finding a new interest at this time. He gets so focused, and appears to get lost in making his paintings.
What a tough time, and what a time of new beginnings as well. A picking up with renewed focus of forgotten or left behind passions. It has also been therapeutic to sit with my father and make art together. I am glad for that.