How do you say goodbye to your most esteemed accomplishments?
How do you say goodbye to hard work and dedication?
How do you part with the inanimate parts of yourself?
What is the art of loss when I grieve lost art?
8/11/22
On August 11th, 2022, I came home from work to find my artwork damp and drying with paper towels & books from a grey water leak, covered in
mold,
toxic bacteria,
iridescence,
pinks,
greens,
reds,
yellows.
It was, to say the least, beautifully repulsive.
The artwork that traveled state borders alongside me, hopped on planes and sat gracefully under exhibit lights was now seemingly a science experiment.
I couldn’t have known that the grey water leak in my apartment would ruin my portfolio.
I couldn’t have known that the grey water leak would ruin my artwork.
And lastly, I didn’t know that the grey water would harvest and grow toxic bacteria.
Hearts sink fast when good things die. This art was an era, and it died that day.
Brooke Lamberti
On Growing Older
I grew a lot that day simply because I came to terms, very quickly, with the fact that the physical artwork was what I used to identify myself as an artist.
I haven’t drawn as a hobby in years. I haven’t focused on my artwork or art business.
It was a tough pill to swallow, feeling like a “one-shot wonder” while also feeling immense shame and guilt for not keeping up with a talent that came naturally to me. For not taking care of the inanimate object(s) I kept so close to my heart and identity.
The artwork would never see a museum wall.
It would never be passed down to generations.
My grandchildren and their grandchildren will not have that physical, historic family artifact to pass down.
It feels dramatic. It was dramatic.
There’s nothing more to say on growing older for that moment.
On Losing Artwork
As I sat there in disbelief, I soon realized I’d have to throw all my artwork in the trash. Below, you’ll see a few of the pieces that didn’t make it.
[presto_player id=933]
Grieving: a conclusion
I’m still grieving this loss, and I’m not sure my heart will ever mend where these art pieces filled. It’s hard to describe the impact of art as therapy and how each piece holds glimpses of my inner workings. I suppose this means it’s time to make new art as a necessary coping skill, right?
Art is therapy.
We are what we feel and what we do. The outward and the inward.
Art is the outward.
This painful lesson in objection attachment taught me that losing artwork truly is losing a piece of yourself. But not in a way that can’t be found. In a way that makes you want to replace it with something better.