A poem filled with words of comfort and explanation about pain. When grieving this year has become common, know that there is still hope. There is still light.

Some days are a little extra magical and you find the exact words that you felt but couldn’t put together. My mom and sister were mourning the passing of a dear friend and godmother, I ached for them and that’s when my eyes found Andi’s soul-stirring words. I found comfort and I could understand a little better how they felt inside.

I left Andi a comment “made me want to hand letter and illustrate it” because I thought SO many more could find refuge in her words.

So we did it! Collaborative projects are my favorite because you get two perspectives that I feel elevate the outcome.

The first roughs gave us the direction, at the end light and hope were most important to highlight

·         The stark division between each stanza denotes the layers of pain and grief.  Darker to lighter.
As we get closer to our light source, it doesn’t only make it lit but less heavy.

·         The writing is not perfectly horizontal and moves with each verse to ‘accommodate’ where we are at.

·         The gradient is on a stackable fashion too, creating a makeshift tower because at those times nothing feels totally secure, yet there are ways to climb to the light.  And especially to suggest that there is a change in Between Spaces

·         There are 2 layers of sun rays, the first one erases the divisions between stages, the second (yellow) illuminates through and all.

·         The girl while in the depths of darkness and almost part of it is receiving the light.

·         The girl is blond in honor of Andi’s daughter.

·         The rough edges on the sides suggest the roughness of those times of sadness, and also their unfinished nature because is something we continue to carry.  There will always be something missing, in my opinion.

·         And the sun up and to the right, our light source which to me is God, is Jesus, is the Holy Ghost.

BETWEEN SPACE by Andi Kate

There is a stillness, just before
you force your limbs out of the door
When key is turned and engine stops--
a prior calm to more shoe drops
A moment, fleeting--there! Then gone.
Your plastered smile no longer on
A minute chink of neutral thought
appears inside your pain blindspot

At least… you think so, but can’t hold
that instant, worth its weight in gold,
no matter matter how you try
it’s so much easier to cry
As if your body wants to shed
the keening chorus in your head
or med ball ache inside your heart
with some Nile-istic work of art

You are allowed this space, you know
give grief some needed grace, and grow--
but space and grief are infinite--
how do you not get lost, submit?
How is it you’re supposed to care
about what’s happening here or there?
Why would you come in from the cold
when numbness makes the gloom less bold?

Because that moment, when you park
ignites in you the smallest spark
Remembrance of how things can be
outside this lonely galaxy
So, though you need more time to drift
before you can achieve some lift
Potential peace is waiting there
between the moments of despair

I hope you are able to be lifted or lift someone with this piece.