It took my dad's death to get to know him. In his death I learned to love him.
In his death I learned to feel his love. As fathers and daughters often do
we tended to butt heads a bit. He the engineer that thought with his head, me the artist that thinks with her heart. He worried about me. How would I make it as an artist? And being the only daughter he worried about me being "just a girl" and how could I possibly handle all that life throws upon us. In his worry I felt inadequate. I know now that it was his way of loving me. This was an ordinary man with an ordinary life. Yet he touched many with his kind smile and left this earth with the peace and dignity of a hero. In my dad's death I got to see him as a person. I saw my dad as a man, a man who did the best he could with the life he was given. I saw him and for the first time I felt he really saw me.
To dads and daughters, may you see each other without worry or judgment.
Through these oils painted clay sculptures and wall reliefs I use the imagery of landscape and wildlife as a metaphor for expressing a life come full circle, a life finally at peace, and a daughters' journey of where life goes from here. My dads name is Malcolm, I hope you will enjoy the lessons he has taught me.
Deb Komitor
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