The corn in the field had been harvested months before yet, a few truncated stalks jutted skyward stubbornly refusing to cooperate. As I walked across the frozen ground toward the ambulance and the paramedics, a great tide of energy rushed over me. Suddenly, the fence did not exist. The barn and house were no longer there- was no tree line, no anything but a wide expanse of wilderness. And I felt as though I were floating well above the ground-- but up and down no longer had relevance. Sound, smell, feel no longer mattered. And time itself became a thing akin to a whiff of smoke that swirled in the air at the whim of a breeze; yesterday, tomorrow were without precinct. I did not realize it but it was of that precise moment that my wife, Renee’s energy and spirit left her body and dispersed into the universe.
Anything else of that experience defies all description. I simply cannot put it into words. I only know I have not yet completely come back. My feet are not on the ground and I do not see things the same way. I do not feel, exist, process anything in the same way.
My art has followed me like a faithful dog to a distant place. We pledge our allegiance to each other daily. And even as we trod on this strange soil, we will be together, yearning for yesterday never and striving for happiness always in our new journey.
Ned Martin is a Abstract oil painter based in Manhattan, New York.