Nancy Crow, my grandmother, was never found sitting still. She was in this constant state of movement that you could only pull her out of when you pulled her in for a hug. Taking care of us was the thing that fueled her, the thing that kept her moving for as long as she could. I started this painting a few years into her fight with dementia. The summer before I started to work on it, I had the chance to spend a few months with her. I sat and watched as her mind seemed to rapidly slip away, leaving behind the movement of her body. Soon after I completed the painting, she passed away. No words were said, and no movement was in the room; but still, she remained in the movements of my hands and the stillness of my hugs. The fissures of the painting are to represent her mind, and the charcoal crow is to represent her exit.