In the painting, you trace the midnight black lines that come alive, welcoming the name of your father, the name of his father, and those from the before that poured into those that came after.
You can tell wisdom was fed here. Uniform to how they feed clay, what it is that exited their wombs, you can see mothers feed the land alongside them. Planting seeds twice, coffee hands ground the dirt making way for pubescent newcomers.
Those in the after will come forth and bear the fruit of their love. And they will come to learn softness. And they will come to learn warmth. And they will come to learn color.
The ground is a part of the saga and carpets the green in the blue house. Moving at a glacial rate and furnishing the floor, decades lies splayed in the painting. A starfish facing the open sky.