This is one of the harder pieces for me to do. For a number of reasons. Last year I lost my mother, Carla Chlouber, after a brief but long illness she suffered from. She had written this poem years ago about her mother and father, Henry and Alyne Sweet, and how they had heard “The music of the spheres” the day before he passed away. I think of it like being called “home”. I do really wish I knew if she heard “The music of the spheres” before she passed away.
I wanted to make the painting “feel” like sound. I don’t know if I accomplished it or not. I think so, to me it does anyway. Here’s the poem; [Read more…]