This is the castle where my great great grandmother on my mother’s side was raised. According to the story, she was knocked up by the gardener and disinherited. She moved to Canada where she worked as a hat maker to provide for herself and her infant son. She eventually married and raised a family. When she passed away her husband remarried, and his jealous new wife burned all of her things, including journals, clothes, and photographs—which is too bad, because those would have been super cool to look through. This castle, however, still stands as a historic landmark in Slovakia.
It is a dream of mine to visit there someday and experience in person this beautiful remnant of my family history.
I am coming to see that the only way that someone as flawed and weak as I am could possibly get to heaven is if Jesus bends down and picks me up in his arms, and lifts me to the heights of holiness himself. He is the one who will unwrap these ropes of doubt and sin and equip me with the grace to live this ordinary life with extraordinary love.
The thick glass in our ensuite throws the pretty ribbons of light that you see in this painting. I must have looked hilarious with my tripod perched in the tub, a desk lamp clamped to the side, and myself crouching between its spindly legs trying to position my hands just right to catch the most amount of light in the few seconds that the sun peeked from behind the clouds. The awkward reference photo paid off though! This painting was a unique and enjoyable challenge.
I’ve always been intrigued by the Sherlock character, in particular the TV series starring Benedict Cumberbatch. In this study I imagined Sherlock as an older gentleman, wizened by years of relentless investigation. This image accompanies my blog post: What I Learned From The Great Mouse Detective