Lucah Solvang's Dad is dying and she's been writing. Reading her experiences reminds me of when my Dad died in August of 2003. It was like travelling such a long way to fetch a priceless artifact—like in one of those Indiana Jones movies—and then watching it slip in stuttered falls down the mountain just after you've freed it from its prison. You want to hold on so much to a loved one's life, so dearly, but things keep falling away and getting worse. For my Dad, it was a slow decline, and towards the end, accelerated into a plunge. I let go, and then he was gone.

Lucah is an amazingly talented artist. Her creations are so full of vigor, with a distinctive style all her own. The way she draws lines are delicately yet strong,  with light and weight in perfect places. It feels alive; it exists. When I was new to SL (she joined a couple months before I), I remember seeing her gallery, aptly called The Art of Lucah. She was actually the first person I heard of who was doing commisioned art in SL, something I encouraged my brother to do (who had become terribly depressed following our Dad's passing), using this ass as a role model. To this day, I often mention her as a shining example of creativity in here, with a style that is unmistakenly… Lucah.

Lucah, I'll say a prayer. I wish you and your family all the very best—as impossible as that sounds in this time. The fact you can write about what's going on and share it with us shows your strength. Keep being strong through the darkness, the tension must be agonizing. I know it was for me. But in that void of fury in which I banged my fists against the door, I came to realize a newfound clarity: I had been beaten down, but began to stand back up, and knew that even though my Dad was dead, I am still alive, and carry on my Father's hopes+dreams.

Live on lovingly, Lucah!

Update: Lucah writes, "In Memory of my Father- Forever free of pain".