On this morning I went to my third art class, and I finally got to paint. It was much more methodical than I usually work, but I learned a lot. I won't show what I'm working on yet, but, to my surprise, Mark Weber offered me the demonstration piece he did last week of a young boy. I love it.
In the afternoon as I was working in the shop, I discovered that I had several missed calls from my parents. When I called them, I said, "Gosh, I've got a lot of calls on here from you, I hope it's good news." My father answered, "It is not." He told me that early in the morning my cousin, Nicholas Ivie, a border patrol agent in Arizona, was killed in an ambush. I'm heartsick. This morning on the news I saw footage of my Aunt and cousins who had traveled to Arizona to be with Nick's wife and children. It seemed like this could not be real. Then the reporter interviewed a spokesman for the family who said, "The Ivie family relies on their faith and they believe families are forever." I felt the weight and relief of that simple truth.