Vin Brocki: Blogging

Our brains are hardwired to find patterns. Sometimes we discover them. Sometimes we invent them. That's how clouds become castles, shadows become strangers, and coincidences become stories.

Lately, I've been noticing a different kind of pattern. As I continue cataloging Ginny's artwork, I'm working through the drawings she posted in June of 2025, about a year before she passed away. One by one, each piece finds its place in a spreadsheet— a catalog number, date of publication, file number, title, hashtags and notes. It sounds quite unromantic. Yet with every entry, patterns quietly reveal themselves: not the story of her illness, but the story of her life.

Ginny developed her own unique style, her own artistic take on the world, which means her creations were authentic. The abstract quality to many of her drawings reveals an understanding of reality that is not a photographic reproduction, it is a way to re-envision what is real. And yes, patterns can elicit strong emotions in that abstract expression.

I don’t think she ever considered her own artistic style, she was too immersed in the energy of her drawings to step back and offer critique. I have the privilege of seeing the patterns in her creativity emerge, her vision of life, even after her death.

When Ginny died, every memory seemed to lead to the same destination. Grief has a way of distilling the ordinary parts of life you shared with your partner into a single sadness. But as I revisit her drawings in the order she created them, I see hundreds of moments of curiosity, humor, imagination, and discipline, each one adding another thread to a much larger tapestry.

Perhaps that's what our brains are really searching for—not merely patterns, but meaning. Sometimes the pattern isn't visible until the artist has put down the pencil.

Vin Brocki, Erie, PA, USA

September 14, 2026