Mondays are hard for me. Especially now. A month ago today, unbeknownst to all of us, my Mom, watercolorist Lynn Powers, lived her last day. She was in her garden, she went for a walk with her favorite person, my dad Jim Powers, and her favorite dog, Chester. She probably thought about the watercolor class she was going to teach. She read a book as she did each night. And then just after the world turned to March 1st, she died. A month has gone by and in that time I’ve said goodbye to her 10,000 times. Each time I hear something that I know she’d find interesting. Each time I see an incredible face perfect for painting. Every time I have a question about art. Each time I talk to my Dad about helping out at the family company a bit so that he can work on some new projects in her name. Ten thousand times of not being able to laugh with her, think with her, and talk art with her. I still have an art day with her scheduled on my Google calendar. That may be a hard day too no matter which day of the week it falls. Mom was never quite my mentor but she was a deeply influential role model. To lose her as a mother is heart breaking but losing her as an artistic spirit guide has been profoundly confusing. She was such a part of my life as an artist that to have her suddenly be gone means looking out at a path I thought I’d be walking with her. That path now feels very empty. Today though was a good art day. It was a challenging day that produces nothing you really like but it never tipped to discouraging. It’s one of my favorite kinds of art day. And I wish I had her to call tonight and tell her about it. Tell her about the art book I’m reading that doesn’t make any sense to me. Tell her how I painted over a section I didn’t like, and liked what I discovered on the other side. Tell her how I think about the advice she gave me the last time we saw each other and talked art. Tell her that I love her. Thank you Mom for all that you taught me. In art and in life. I miss you.