Raiment

There was a woman, the mother of my children, my former wife, who was born, decades ago, this day.
2.9.55.

She passed, sadly for us all, a couple of years back. Many hold happy memories of her. I keep hearing that. Liked and loved. And, looking back, I remember that sense of happy times, free from struggle. Hold that. There were surely darker times for us all. But that’s merely what it is. Dark, light, and the grey in between.


And in walking the island, I came to a place of memory. Long ago, being with her on the little pavilion, seen out there.

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And being there, seeing that, recalling that time, brought that heart home.

What I’m seeing in this imagery is the delicacy of the sumi-ye, the color wash, the black inked, the rain-washed stone ground, is a re-minding of that time. What was seen there, sensed there, in that passing. Passing then, passing now.

We’re all going somewhere, are we not. And what we recall, we hold, what is laid there, we might envision in new ways. Going back.

And these renderings, more infused. Color tinted. Arrayed.

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And we keep at it. One step, time.

Go slow, recall. See what is there, consider the raiment of things.

Arrayed.

The raiment of living.


Raiment is from Middle English rayment, short for arrayment, from arrayen, “to array.”

tsg
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