40 × 30mm Timed, signed, limited edition print of the soft pastel work, Echoes. Archive Quality, German Etching paper print.
This product includes the signed and numbered print and certification. This print is unframed and has a red border.
“After navigating the deep water, inevitably at one point you’ll find yourself smiling like an idiot at something lovely, like spring bulbs or the one deep breath your dog takes before falling asleep. Then you realise they’re gone again. Like a bus, it hits. It hurts for such a long time, and squeezes the happiness out of you again and again.
As time moves on, the smiling, soft moments come more frequently and the pang of loss isn't a shock anymore, you just expect it to join the smile as usual; a depressed feeling.
More time.
One day you figure they might smile with you at this seemingly mundane thing. Because they would love the pink spring bulbs and they loved your dog so much. They become integrated in your moment of joy you know they’d like too. Almost like they gift them to you. The pangs still come - yes they do. But not the same way. They come with a peppering of the new connection you make with them now - now that your heart is fully poured out to them. Now they know everything. And have heard all your sorrys. And they’ve sent all the birds and the butterflies to you. And you can go with them to the shallow water a bit more readily now. They help to lift you out.
My dad is in so many facets of my personality. He shaped a huge part of who I am. I tried running from those parts at one point in my life. I hated those parts. And now, every time I see him shine through me, I feel this kind of recognition. I’m so glad he’s still here, even if it’s just me who sees that, only briefly. I’m so happy I didn’t manage to scrub that part of myself away. Because the world lost out when he went. It was duller, a lesser place immediately. The parts of him that are in me remind me that if the world is dull, well, then I might have something I can do something about that.”
- Karlee Hankin
40 × 30mm Timed, signed, limited edition print of the soft pastel work, Echoes. Archive Quality, German Etching paper print.
This product includes the signed and numbered print and certification. This print is unframed and has a red border.
“After navigating the deep water, inevitably at one point you’ll find yourself smiling like an idiot at something lovely, like spring bulbs or the one deep breath your dog takes before falling asleep. Then you realise they’re gone again. Like a bus, it hits. It hurts for such a long time, and squeezes the happiness out of you again and again.
As time moves on, the smiling, soft moments come more frequently and the pang of loss isn't a shock anymore, you just expect it to join the smile as usual; a depressed feeling.
More time.
One day you figure they might smile with you at this seemingly mundane thing. Because they would love the pink spring bulbs and they loved your dog so much. They become integrated in your moment of joy you know they’d like too. Almost like they gift them to you. The pangs still come - yes they do. But not the same way. They come with a peppering of the new connection you make with them now - now that your heart is fully poured out to them. Now they know everything. And have heard all your sorrys. And they’ve sent all the birds and the butterflies to you. And you can go with them to the shallow water a bit more readily now. They help to lift you out.
My dad is in so many facets of my personality. He shaped a huge part of who I am. I tried running from those parts at one point in my life. I hated those parts. And now, every time I see him shine through me, I feel this kind of recognition. I’m so glad he’s still here, even if it’s just me who sees that, only briefly. I’m so happy I didn’t manage to scrub that part of myself away. Because the world lost out when he went. It was duller, a lesser place immediately. The parts of him that are in me remind me that if the world is dull, well, then I might have something I can do something about that.”
- Karlee Hankin