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12/30/24 Bob |
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3/19/25 Brian |
Two Aegis residents passed away last week. Although I didn’t
really know Bob and Brian, I had seen them regularly when I visited Greg, and I
had noted their absence shortly before I learned of their passing. I can’t say
that the feeling I had was grief, exactly, but recalling sketches I had made of
them, I felt their absence more heavily: I would never sketch them again.
Looked at that way, I suddenly questioned my intentions: I always try to capture unique individuals, not generic figures or caricatures. But did I show enough respect or reverence when I sketched them? Or was I just filling time?
Whenever I sketch fellow light rail commuters or other strangers in public places, I do so with the assumption that I will never see them again. At least for that moment (and often it is literally less than a minute), I give each person my full attention, observing as closely (and, I hope, as respectfully) as I can. For all I know, my sketches could be their last images from life on earth.
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4/19/25 |
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4/19/25 |
With Aegis residents, I hadn’t thought about it in this way before. Since I visit regularly, I guess I always assume I will have more opportunities to sketch them. Obviously, though, that’s not true (and especially at a retirement community). Each sketch we make of any person might be a record of the last time we see them.
Indeed, any of us could be gone in a minute. I do love that you do your best to capture the individuality of these residents, giving them a bit of immortality they'd otherwise might not get. <3
ReplyDeleteThanks. It's the least I can do when I sketch someone.
DeleteIt is sad but true that any of us could be gone tomorrow. I am glad to see that you find something special to indicate each resident's likes or interest. It is a nice record to have of them.
ReplyDeleteIt does help me remember each person as an individual, not random.
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