This is a collection of memories that capture the essence of a friendship rooted in both the tranquility of the charming coastal atmosphere and the shared discipline of art.
I brainstormed all week since I found out that Carolyn Caswell passed away from breathing difficulties. She was 94. This shuffle of life has always been present, but now it feels much like a stacked deck of cards. My unspoken, constant thought is “Which of us may be the next?”
A Life of Light and Color:
The news of Carolyn Caswell’s passing brings with it a familiar, yet heavy, reflection on the “shuffle of life.” It feels, in this moment, like a stacked deck of cards, prompting the quiet, unspoken question: Which of us may be the next?
Summer Days At East Beach
In the summers of 2014 and 2015, Carolyn and Mr. Caswell opened more than just their home; they opened a world of memory for my family on the largest of Georgia’s Golden Isles. Their beach house at 4206 11th St. on Saint Simons Island became the backdrop for some of our most cherished moments.
I can still see the boys selling seashells by the seashore and pouring homemade lemonade for passersby. I remember the excitement of shark fishing around Shark Tooth Island and the quiet awe of seeing Spanish Moss hanging elegantly from the Live Oaks at Fort Frederica Park. These were days punctuated by the simple joy of sharing the best pizza on the beach at Sal’s and the fellowship found at the AA clubhouse.
The Artist’s Connectiom
Carolyn was a fellow artist, a watercolorist whose soul was visible in the work she shared on her holiday cards. Our bond was forged in the studio; she was the one who walked me into Chris DiDomizio’s Art School in Sandy Springs, a gesture that changed my creative life. It felt only appropriate to gift her with my first watercolor of two bananas that she had framed at Binders Art Supplies and Frames.
We once gifted her a framed watercolor by Dylan Scott Pierce — a piece she kept until the season of life required her to downsize to assisted living. When she returned it to us, it felt less like a returned gift and more like a passing of the torch.
A Search and Rescue Mission
For me, art and nursing have always been two sides of the same coin, “a search and rescue mission,” for my soul. As Carolyn knew well, art allows us to draw on a deep sense of meaning, providing the bonus of quiet fulfillment.
Being an artist sustains a spiritual connection so vast that the movement itself can not suffer, disappear, or die. Through Carolyn’s friendship and my own practice, I have been sustained emotionally, intellectually, and financially in ways that are hard to overstate.
Carolyn Caswell understood that while breathing may fail, the “breath” of a life lived through art and kindness does not. She was an opener of doors— to beach houses, to art schools, and to the heart. Though the deck of cards has been shuffled once more, the memories of those Saint Simons summers remain, bright and permanent, as a fresh wash of watercolor.
I plan to refresh my own watercolor supplies and attend an intensive watercolor workshop with Dylan Pierce in May for some extra watercolor fun and inspiration as I prepare to create a new piece in Carolyn’s honor. Yet, even in the face of such loss, we look back at the vibrant colors Carolyn added to the canvas of our lives.
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