A little more than a week ago, a friend ended his life.

As the days pass, it appears this was his plan. That is troubling to hold. And yet, through grace, I find myself sensing that, somehow, it also gave him peace.

He was the reason the town got to see a body of my work.

He needed wall art, came to my home to look through my paintings, and instead convinced me to do a show of only my work at a local brewery. It ran for four months. It was a joyful affirmation.

Because of my friend.

Now the air feels different. I don’t know whether it’s because his physical body is no longer vibrant, or because his energy has taken up residence in what I take in.

As I write this at 7:51 on a Sunday morning, a church bell tolls.

Dear friend, you fly around me. Your words remain. Your belief in me remains. And for all of it, I am grateful