A Place to Call Home

Painting has been a source of expressing those hard to describe feelings, often naming them with visuals before I can do so with words. Sometimes I have to think retrospectively why certain things were painted. What was going on in my life at the time? What did that image represent to me at that moment? How does it apply to the issues in its whole?

It’s funny that so much of my painting has a subconscious element I can pick apart later. It’s helped me to process the feelings and thoughts inside my being so much more effectively. I was pondering on the symbolism of my newest “treehouse” series I’ve been working on since 2020. Why treehouses? What has been happening in the last year of my life? Why did this become an obsession of different styles and shapes and explorations of houses and trees? How does it tie into the whole of my last year?

At the beginning of 2020 I had decided I wasn’t going to mourn the loss of my family anymore. I decided to be done with my “heart series”, and to start something new. But what direction to go? I wasn’t sure. I just knew 2020 was going to be better than 2019.

Then COVID came onto the scene, changing all best laid plans for everyone world-wide. I felt very alone during that time. And very unprepared to be the parent I needed to be. And in the mix of those emotions, I struggled with accepting other new realities. My son’s dad had moved his girlfriend and her daughter into what was “our home”. While I was feeling the challenges of parenting solo, he was creating a new family dynamic. It was the closing of that chapter of my life, in a very real and significant way, during a very real and significant time. 

Feeling even more alone, and scared, and unprepared for what might come next, I found sanctuary in the home of two dear friends. Over the next few months we shared space, meals, and friendship (you can read more about this time in the Quarantine Quest blogs here). My heart healed a little more from it’s sadness. I felt a little more capable of dealing with the bigger issues at hand. By the time I left their farm, I had healed enough to stand up on my own again. Having their support helped me to go back out into the world a stronger woman.

The treehouse series developed around that time period. It started first as a large treehouse village; each individual tree was bridged between each other, creating a network of connected houses and huts. It later grew into individual tree houses of different shapes and sizes and states of being. Some tree houses were lonely with no way to get up or down to them. Some treehouses poured warm and inviting light out into a dark and shadow draped world. Some treehouses weren’t treehouses at all, but instead birdhouses or boats. Some tree houses looked like they were in a stained glass forest and all paths led to their door. And others looked like empty shells that hadn’t seen company in a long, long time.

So why the treehouses? I suppose they came to represent my feeling of what home was. What I had once imagined my home would be, what my future would be, was not to be. I had to determine what that was for myself.

At the beginning of the journey it was a sad and scary prospect. I had a hard time imagining what that future looked like. But as time went, and I felt the support and solidity of my important relationships underneath me, I was able to construct what home would become...piece by piece. Board by board. Home started to take shape.

I used what I had. Some boards were repurposed from the old structures. As it went up, it was shaky. The slightest breeze would wobble my foundation back then. But as I went, and I gathered old and new pieces to add to my structure, it became stronger. Sturdier. Able to withstand more of the weather that came my way.

I still find myself painting treehouses. I find them comforting...both of the world and not. Being a part of nature and humanity. The tree provides a rooted support to the structure, much like support systems in our lives can provide us mental and emotional stability to get through the hard times. I didn’t start out painting treehouses with all these thoughts in mind; yet they have become so ingrained in my psyche as representative of these virtues. Our minds are interesting things...how it can give us keys to our own locks, if we’re brave enough to explore the tangles of those branches.