Art has an incredible way of holding memory—of transforming grief into something tangible, something sacred. For my dear friend and fiber artist, Mary Ann, this became profoundly true when she created an encaustic vessel in honor of her late husband, Larry. She came to my studio yesterday, and as she worked with the encaustic medium, she talked about the vessel and what it meant.

Mary Ann and Larry shared a life of service. They met in Vietnam, where she served as an Army nurse and he as a dedicated officer. If you’ve read The Women by Kristin Hannah, you know about some of the challenges Mary Ann faced.

After they retired, they stayed in San Antonio, carrying with them a lifetime of experiences. When Larry passed away, Mary Ann found herself sorting through the remnants of their shared life—his military papers, their joint financial records—trying to make sense of both the past and the future.

“After the passing of my husband, I began sifting through his military papers and our important documents to get a clearer picture of my next steps as a widow,” she shared. “It was in those pages that I discovered just how thoughtfully Larry had planned for my future without him.”

That realization, of his enduring care even beyond his lifetime, became the foundation for her tribute. She found 32 years’ worth of Larry’s Army Leave and Earnings Statements—documents that guided every decision he made for their life together. Those pages, once mere records, took on new meaning as she transformed them into a vessel of remembrance.

Using a plaster bandage base to underscore healing, she layered the shredded strips of statements (mindful of security) with matte medium and clear gesso. As she worked, she encountered an unexpected moment of connection.

“I began to notice that his name was appearing randomly on the surface, inside and out. And often. I don’t know why that surprised me because it was on every page that I tore. But this simple recognition of his name gave me great peace and wiped away all the earlier feelings of the day.”

The finished piece is both delicate and powerful. The bowl, sealed in encaustic wax which bonds to the paper and clear gesso, cradles Larry’s military ribbons and medals. The documents that once recorded years of duty and sacrifice now form a sacred space, holding not just tangible honors but the deeper essence of love, service, and remembrance.

“The final touch, applying hot wax to the exterior and buffing a shine, sealed in the memories for me. I am happy to have this tribute to him.”

Mary Ann’s vessel speaks to the profound ways art can hold the weight of our experiences. It is a container not just of paper, gauze bandages, and wax, but of time, honor, and enduring love.

This story resonates strongly with me, and not just because Mary Ann is a close friend. You may remember that this year I’m teaching vessel-making workshops at UTSA and in Ireland, guiding artists through the process of creating personal, symbolic containers. Mary Ann’s story is a beautiful reminder that vessels are more than objects; they hold memories, emotions, and meaning beyond technique or skill. Whether formed from wax, fiber, or found materials, these creations become sacred spaces—places for honoring stories, preserving the past, and shaping what we carry forward.

Her tribute deepens my own understanding of why we create vessels, and I look forward to exploring that same sense of significance and sharing it with my students.

Thanks for the lesson, Mary Ann! ♥