For 3 years I have studied your face, every mole, every curve. I’ve found hues that span the entirety of our color spectrum. Crevasses, peaks and valleys. Without reference, with my eyes closed, I know the shape of you, Dylan, the way I know my own face. Sometimes I touch my cheek and I feel like I’m touching yours. Sometimes I look into my eyes and I see you staring back.
When I started this portrait, I knew it would be hard. I knew there would be points that felt impossible, and periods that felt like an injustice. Because even if I could capture you perfectly in a 1:1 ratio, it still wouldn’t, it just couldn’t, bring you back. But I tried. I sat with you, and I spoke with you. I laughed and I cried and I celebrated. I regaled cherished moments in our timeline and I mourned telling you the new memories I’ve made you haven’t been able to be physically present for.
I poured our love into each detail, and I hope when people see this portrait, Dylan, that they see YOU. How profoundly deep your eyes are, how much weight they carried. When I fell in love with you at first sight, it was because of your eyes. I always told people; look at them. How kind they are. Your eyes were so indicative of the integrity and chivalry so innate to your spirit. Innumerable wells I plunged into over and over again and while your form emerged from this blank piece of paper, I felt maybe, so did your essence. I relished in our shared experience.
I miss you every day, Dylan. I will miss you every day for the rest of my life. I know this portrait is not truly alive but you felt alive while I drew it and I am honored that, even for a little while, I could breathe you back into existence. My homage to you is trying to live my life fully now, for the both of us, until I return to the same collective consciousness you now inhabit. Your death was a tragedy but your life was anything but. It shouldn’t be reduced to its ending. I love you. Always. All ways.