Lumin was a painter of extraordinary grace. This was clear to me even before I met her, when my wife Marianna and the artist Jennifer Guidi both suggested I take a look at her work. From the very first images I saw of Lumin’s paintings, I could tell she was channeling something special.
Lumin was an old soul, a seer. She carried the wisdom of the universe in her eyes and translated it into her paintings. For me, this was all that mattered. When I reflect on the work of Lumin’s that the gallery showed, I rarely have a specific image in mind. What I conjure instead is a feeling that can best be described as the earth’s eternal hum, or heartbeat. Lumin was attuned to the natural world in a way that transcended time and space.
She was also a painter of extraordinary grit. It is incredibly complicated to balance family life, motherhood, and a burgeoning studio practice. As interest in Lumin’s work grew, she scaled up—not only in the size of her paintings, but also in ambition. Channeling something special is meaningless unless you have the vision and backbone to execute. She was scrappy and determined. She knew she had it in her. It fills me with equal parts joy and despair to say she was on a path to a profound career as an artist. While my impulse is to celebrate, I am bereft we didn’t get to see more. The sky was the limit.
Lumin was a unifier of people. I didn’t fully understand this until the memorial service in August, when her entire artistic community turned out to pay homage to her life. She was loved and admired by her fellow artists. She did so much and asked for nothing in return. What she gave willingly in life is mirrored by what her paintings give us still: connection, love, respite. I keep thinking of the video that played during her service, which showed clips of many paintings I had the privilege to exhibit at my galleries. I didn’t fully understand this privilege either, until I saw the trajectory of my own life so intertwined with hers.
I am so heartbroken for Lumin’s husband and their beautiful girls. I am heartbroken for all of Lumin’s friends. I am heartbroken we don’t get more.
Lumin is a shining light, a beacon, a gift: something primordial, something not yet known. A painting, a poem, an apparition. I wish I knew what else to say.