Thinking Boy and Couragous Boy

Recently an aspired woman named Diana perished in my community. She worked for peace, started Head Start in the International District in Seattle, was an amazing print block artist, started the artist Co-op here on Lopez Island, was skilled at beading and stitchery, wrote and raised a beautiful family with children and grandchildren. I was privileged to be in a writing group years ago with Diana, led by one of my mentors here on Lopez, and that is mostly how I knew her personally. She was dynamic and encouraging. Our local Lopez Community Land Trust was donated many pieces of beautiful art and they put on a memorial for Diana in our Lopez Community Center for the Arts and sold her art to people to raise money for the LCLT, who supports local farms and brings affordable ecological housing to our community. A vital life force of Lopez of which Diana shared vision with. I am so glad that I stepped out of my stupor and went out to one of the open houses sharing her memorial altar and displaying her beautiful block prints for sale. It was very close to my birthday, and wandering the room my eye came to two black and white prints of two faces, one white and one black. Looking closer I could see small images decorating the background of both pieces which were framed and hanging side by side on the wall. I was very taken with the artistry and feeling that came through to me in these two pieces of art.

A day or two later it was birthday. I had a quiet morning journaling and reflecting on birthdays past with my lover Steve. We went for a couple years on my birthday to Orcas Island to the beautiful parks over there, and to Doe Bay resort for a soak and sauna. We brought our dogs of course, Lionel and Bruce. We stepped out of the spa to let the dogs out of the car wrapped in our towels and had a glass of wine in the sun. I remember soaking in one of the hot tubs and looking out to the clouds and coastline beyond. I remember setting intentions for my year to come. We ate out of course, and I have endless good memories eating out with Steve over the almost 28 years we lived together. Back to the present, my folks were taking me out to dinner here on the island the evening of my birthday. So, I had my day of walking my dog, doing my routines, journaling and reading the tarot, and then went out for a nice dinner with my folks. My mom came in with a large pillow case full of something. And while we were waiting for our food, I open a couple small gifts. Then, she pulled out this large rectangular pillowcase. Inside were these two prints and I was so pleasantly surprised. The next day she came over to hang them. I knew exactly where they would go because I had recently cleared a piece of wall inside the door. I sit now in my chair in the living room and stare directly at and meditate on these two boys.

I have written endless sonnets in my mind about what the two boys, named “Thinking Boy” and “Courageous Boy”, are about, and where they are going and what they are dreaming of. It has become a practice that is resonating deeply with my true self. My inner self. My grief and healing journey. Based on the small and intricate images in the background, I have created whole stories and identities of these two figures. My mom suggested that courage comes from he heart, so in a way one of the boys is of the mind, and the other of the heart. In our minds we dream of far off places of discovery and adventure. And in our hearts, our courage leads us on inner journeys of discovery. Both are journeys I must take now as I sit at this broad and intimidating beginning in my life. As I went to sleep last night I began singing a Saint Francis song about living our life day by day, slowly, stone by stone, building our secrets, and finding meaning in existence. That finding God or a spiritual power in life can be nurtured and discovered if we do few things and do them well. And bring intentional to every interaction and task we must perform. Thinking Boy and Courageous Boy are helping me with that. So Diana, your legacy is carried on through all of us through your art, and you are more than remembered, you are continuing your mission of peace. As I learn to navigate this sometimes scary world without Steve, I have music and art at my side guiding the way.