I only found you when I stopped looking
Real Art Ways
Hartford
July 31, 2024
I’m sure that there’s more to Denisse Griselda Reyes’ exhibit, I only found you when I stopped looking, than what I saw today. Because today, all I saw was death.
Maybe because I’m preoccupied by a recent tragedy. A young lady named Megan Davis from Enfield, only 17 years old, was killed last weekend in a car accident. She was good friends with my son. They had classes together. They hung out together. And now, in an instant, she’s gone.
Part of Reyes’ exhibit featured a short film called What Do You Know. The film features Reyes in different skits, but also shows old footage of her mother. At one point, Reyes intones in a voiceover that she was living the fears of her mother, and it made her mother do things like prevent her from going up the street to play.
Children never understand when we inflict our fears on them, and it may not be fair that we do so. But when we don’t, the unthinkable becomes possible. Not likely, not certain, but possible. And possible is it all it takes to snatch a young life away.
Another piece in the exhibit is titled What dies in me when I am myself? It’s an interesting piece that combines old family photographs with an LED display that constantly cycles the name of the piece. I couldn’t help but stare at the words, and think about how cavalier I’ve been about that word my entire life. Death. Such a small word for such a massive concept. The act of ceasing to exist.
There’s no pain quite like the feeling when you know that your child is hurting, and there’s nothing you can do to make them feel better. I had hoped I had experienced the worst of that when my son was a baby, and a fever broke out or teething reared its ugly head or God forbid he fell down and scraped his knee. This is different though. This is a pain that endures because the love he felt for his friend endures. There’s no way to bandage this, and the memories that offer comfort are the same ones that remind him of the hole left behind.
Burial, a giant oil painting on canvas, reminded me that some of the hardest days are still to come. Megan’s funeral will be held soon. I can’t even try to imagine what her parents will feel on that day. What will my son feel? How can I help him to face the sadness that will erupt from inside of him when he’s with a room full of people who desperately miss their daughter, their friend, their loved one?
I’ve worked in schools for most of my adult life. It’s unfathomable to everyone that one of the kids you see everyday will simply not be there one day. How will he endure the first day of school, the first time in his high school life, that he won’t have at least one class with Megan?
I’ve often wondered what the point of art is. Maybe it’s this. Maybe art exists so that the emotions we’ve spent a lifetime learning to bottle up can finally flow freely. I couldn’t cry for Megan or for my son until I sat down to write this. Now, I don’t know when I’ll be able to stop.
NEXT
I only found you when I stopped looking continues at Real Art Ways through Sept. 19.
If you have the means, please consider supporting Megan Davis’ family in this difficult time. You can find the GoFundMe page here.
