The Ephemeral Art of Tracey Kessler: Grieving and the Painting Process

Tracey Kessler’s mother Sara Lou, when she was in her late teens.

Tracey Kessler always had an artistic spirit; she worked in the design industry and painted recreationally throughout her life.  When her mother, Sara Lou, suddenly passed away from pulmonary fibrosis in October 2010, Tracey took up her brush and created a series of ethereal, abstract expressionist paintings entitled Breath.

Prior to her mother’s passing, Tracy had trained to become an end-of-life doula with Amy Levine at the Jewish Board of Family and Children Services in New York City. These doulas are volunteers who accompany and support those in the final phase of life. Tracey’s mother had only just reached the retirement age, and was looking forward to her Golden Years. Due to the abruptness of her demise, Tracey was not afforded the opportunity to use her doula training, nor did she make any preparations to carry out her mother’s last wishes for funerary arrangements.

Tracey recounts how she unconsciously inscribed lines on the canvas that resembled those produced by the EKG that monitored her mother.

“Chaos” Tracey Kessler. Acrylic, Graphite, Charcoal, Ink (30 x 42″) 2010

In the wake of her mother’s death, Tracey immersed herself in the meditative and soul-consuming process of painting. Many themes revolving around the tragedy surfaced through her creative output. Tracey recounts how she unconsciously inscribed lines on the canvas that resembled those produced by the EKG that monitored her mother. She also painted the series in gradations of color, from the fleshy hue of Mylar to white. As the series progresses, the wash of white overtakes the flesh color: as if the signifying spirit metaphorically phases out its mortal encasing.  At the time, the work offered her solace, though now Tracey admits that looking back on Breathe is jarring due to its confrontational symbolism.

While Tracey was grieving, she responded to a Craigslist ad from a man who wished to take painting lessons. In an unexpected twist of synchronicity, the ad she answered was from a 72 year-old named Fred who had months left to live.  His diagnosis was pulmonary fibrosis. The parallel and ironic nature of his circumstance with Tracey’s life was dumbfounding. As Tracey worked with Fred, who had the benefit of receiving an earlier diagnosis than her mother, she realized that what he really needed was to reach out to someone. By some agent of fate, Tracey inadvertently became the end-of-life counselor for which she had trained.

The experience of working with Fred naturally engendered many mixed emotions for

“Passing” Tracey Kessler. Acrylic, Ink, Charcoal, Graphite on Mylar (30 x 42″) 2010

Tracey. On some level, she felt as though she was completing some unfinished business. However, Tracey was also exasperated and confused: part of her was resentful that she had to relive these emotions again after just saying goodbye to her mother. But her emotional support and experienced clarity were crucial in helping Fred through his challenge.

Tracey Kessler is now a working artist who has shown in galleries around the Bay Area and New York City. Reaffirming her love of painting through this tragedy, Tracey was called to be true to herself by pursuing her career as a painter. Through this powerful intersection marked by the deaths of her mother and Fred, Tracey weaved together her artistic expression and training as an end-of-life doula.

Further Recommendations:

Follow Tracey Kessler on her Pinterest page dedicated to pulmonary fibrosis, as well as the memorial page dedicated to her mother.

Learn more about the Baylor University Medical Center’s End-of-Life Doula training here to aid the grieving.

The healing power of creativity in times of grief.

What artistic process have you engaged with to help you through grieving?

Related articles:

• Pulmonary fibrosis: Between a ROCK and a hard place (medicalxpress.com)
• Tools for Grieving Children with Lynea Gillen, MS (lugenfamilyoffice.com)
• Healing Through Painting (thegoldenvanguard.ca)