reference: Part 1:
https://www.camillebarnesstudio.com/studio-blog/2022/9/3/to-hell-and-back
The fire had raged through our home and my art studio. In its wake, it left behind a landscape of charred memories and broken dreams. My husband and I stood amidst the ashes, our hearts heavy with sorrow, we stood shocked in disbelief as the firefighters worked hard to put out the fire. My eyes clouded with tears. It was a devastating day one that would forever be etched in our souls.
The first days after the fire were a blur of shock and disbelief. We sifted through the rubble, searching for any salvageable fragments of their former life. Each discovery, no matter how small, felt like a lifeline to the past. A melted brush, a scorched canvas, a singed photograph—these were the relics of a life once vibrant and full of promise.
The studio, once a sanctuary of creativity, now stood as a skeletal frame, a haunting reminder of what once was. Thankfully not everything was destroyed. The Hammond Fire Department did an amazing job at trying to protect everything they could from the fire, smoke and water. They were definitely our heroes that day.
But amidst the devastation, a flicker of hope began to emerge. Friends and neighbors rallied around them, offering support and comfort. in spite of many physical possessions being gone, the bonds of humanity and community remained intact. We were safe, and our little doggie, Snuggles. He has since passed away. On the day of the fire, he was mostly blind and very scared. I was able to get him out of the house and into a safe area. For a little white we sat in the backyard and just sat and watched and the workers continued to do their jobs. Someone brought use cold water to drink and tried to comfort us with kind words and the usually small talk that has a way of making you fell like you’re not alone through this.
Our son Ben, and his lovely wife Angel brought us into their home to stay with a few bare essentials. We didn’t know where to start, where to live, how to deal with insurance matters of this magnitude.
As the days turned into weeks, me and my sweet hubby began the arduous process of rebuilding our lives. I had a dear and special friend belle money into my bank account, and someone ordered some artwork, which was very helpful. Weeks later we found a temporary place to live, a rented space that lacked the familiarity of our old home but provided a sense of shelter. The best part about it was we were living close to some of our family again. Now we faced the daunting task of navigating insurance claims, paperwork, and finding a contractor and the logistics of rebuilding. The process was exhausting, frustrating, and often disheartening. Sorting through the personal property loss information took much longer than expected. Between the demands of everyday life, working, painting, hospitalizations/health issues, a close brush with death, and broken foot, the betrayal of someone I loved dearly, social commitments, finding time for family and friends, (and a new grand baby WoooHooo!) all while making decisions about the house repairs....I have to say it has been quite challenging. I feel like I've been burning the candle at both ends and in the middle.
But even in the face of adversity, they found strength in their determination to rise from the ashes. I started creating anew, their work infused with a depth of emotion that could only come from the crucible of loss. Each brushstroke was a testament to resilience and the enduring power of the human spirit…it can also be an escape from reality at times. I get into my mental “zone” of creating and I am so totally focused on it that I can not think about the horrific stuff surrounding me.
And as time passed, the emotional scars of the fire began to heal. Deep inside I sense that the new creations were born from the ashes of their old life. I have grown in wisdom with experience and understand with more clarity the fragility of existence. There was so much loss, but it also hope—a reminder that beauty could emerge from the darkest of moments.
