A Simple Woolen Jacket: Our Man on the Spot
By Willem de Thouars
Writing has never been my best subject in the nature of my heart and soul. Only by illustration in artwork can I describe myself the best.
A little summary about the story in my painting, above, is about Shah ‘Za’ Edwards, who was driven over by a careless truck driver in Truckee, Calif. She left to the world of the unknown and will always remain a spark for us to grow.
Za was always a great and caring friend – a musician, the best a mother could ever be to her children and the best of a caring friend. She never lacked energy and never let any negativity overcome her positive nature.
The painting is all about a blue and woolen jacket that Za gave me some years ago, in Daniel’s home, a house he built. When she gave me the jacket, she said, “Willem, I bought this for you, and know you might like it.”
With those short but brief spoken words came a great story. The woolen jacket was light to fit any situation of weather, in summer or winter. I always dress light to find comfort not to restrict my movements.
On a Thursday in February 2015, for some peculiar reason I picked the same jacket Za gave me some years ago to play golf on my most favored golf course, the Thorn Greek gold course, a city owned course. The city of Thornton is over 50 years old, and the course is only 30.
The beginning of the start of my hyperactivity in golf was started at hole no. 3. That particular day became overwhelmed for the experience alone. Hole no. 3 is always an interesting hole to play, with many obstacles to force one to hit them straight. When I stopped my golf cart at midfield of the course, and was ready to step out of my cart to hit my ball, there was suddenly an electrical shock. Za appeared out of nowhere suddenly, barefoot and dressed in pink. She told me, with similar words, about the blue jacket: “I thought you might like the jacket.”
The whole field, just for a few seconds, seemingly a lifetime stopped: Suddenly, I was in the house that Daniel had built, and in a hallway near the large kitchen, where she gave me the jacket as a present. She came to appear to me only in seconds, and she disappeared as quickly as she came. It took me a few minutes to recover my shock.
Our world of the unknown is a world in the far beyond, unsure to most of us, the living, of reassurances. It is hard to overcome the world of spirits outside our physical world – that we just inherited a box we line in at birth.
I have experienced similar appearances before to understand.