Steven Becker Art

After the devastating loss of one of my children, my world turned upside down. The pain was unbearable, and in my grief, I made the painful decision to stop painting and creating, as if it were a self-imposed punishment for losing what I loved most.

For nearly two decades, my brushes lay untouched, my canvas remained blank, and my artistic spirit withered. The thought of creating became a painful reminder of the joy I had lost. But slowly, ever so slowly, my pain diminished, allowing a glimmer of hope to flicker back to life. Several artists I met along the way urged me to start once more.

With hesitation, I tentatively chose to break my work and materials as a metaphor for what I am. But as the work emerged, I did feel a sense of peace wash over me. It was as if I had reconnected with a lost part of myself. The act of creating art became a cathartic release, a way to express the indescribable emotions that had consumed me for so long.

Returning to my art has been a journey of rediscovery. I have embraced the pain and loss that shaped me, allowing it to infuse my work with a depth and intensity that was absent before. Through my art, I have found some measure of solace, healing, and a renewed sense of purpose.

I am reminded that life is a tapestry of joy and sorrow, and it is through embracing both that we find true meaning. My return to creating has taught me the power of resilience, the importance of self-expression, and the healing potential of art.

As I step back into the world of art, I do so with a profound gratitude for the gift of creation. I no longer view it as a punishment, but as a celebration of some portion of my life and a tribute to the child I lost.