Superstition?

You know, I was never the one to believe in such a thing as superstition, but the end of May does not seem to go well. Ever. Last year, it was Italy. This year 4 hours into Summer and my Grandad dies. I mean, come on, life give me a break. I don't have many places were I can rant, I hate putting my friends down, they're all camping at the moment or enjoying the first weekend of freedom and everyone at home is, well, stressed really. I'm praying, but I just need to put my emotions out there, you know? Write them down, even though not many read my blog, it's not the point of telling the world about anything.

I still have 3 paintings left to do and sketches, my muse to paint is at an all time zero at the moment. I'm too upset to try to cheer myself up with anything.

Yep, now it's begining to feel like Summer.

1 Response to "Superstition?"

  1. Johnathan Harrington Says:

    I don't usually do this over the internet, as I think it's completely impersonal and rude, but I am honestly truly sorry for your loss.

    I am not going to tell you to console yourself in quiet reminiscence, as having suffered quite a few deaths in my life myself, I know how satisfactory that is. Though let me tell you something that I honestly believe.

    It's a cruel fate that our mind associates loss to anything it possibly can. There are quite a few songs that I cannot listen to without feeling melancholic about losing someone close.

    But this melancholy will also drive you forward. Every time I think of overachieving, I think of my deceased uncle who did precisely that. Every time I lay down a hand in poker, I think of my granddad who loved cards.

    I tried to trick myself into forgetting this sadness, but the true trick was to embrace it.

    Death is inevitable and leaves a large footprint in our lives, but upon realizing the sadness others will feel upon my end of body, I want people to remember me in every positive light since it will not be the end of my identity.

    Embrace every memory of your grandfather. A part of him will always be with you.

    May his memory drive your every muse, your every painting and your every longing for summer.