Laura Lou Levy: House of the Sun

These drawings spring from a place of anguish, and reverence. I am caught in the dark limbo of “bystander” as my brilliant younger sister Leslie’s life is ravaged by Early Onset Alzheimer’s with all its insults and ugliness and cruelty. Yet I have found a strange light. For several years after her diagnosis at 57, Leslie was able to be home with family. When the time came for constant care, a special place was found: Beit HaShemesh: House of the Sun.  Leslie began to walk compulsively. Visiting meant walking, holding hands, singing.  Unexpectedly, as we circled together, my eye was drawn to the beautiful, ominous shadows on the courtyard floor.

The shadows cast by the towering palms at Beit HaShemesh are dense.  Coins of sunlight scatter over pockmarked stone, and palm fronds sway like sharp flags, signaling what’s to come.

I dove into this series with a sense of urgency. My instinctive choice of material was charcoal. I love its immediacy, its responsiveness, and its surprises. The hard pastel and conté rendered veins etched into stone, and cast a glowing net over neural webs.

Last October, after numerous falls, Leslie broke her knee. She won’t be walking anywhere anymore.

When I first visited her at House of the Sun, we danced.