I lost a loved one this week. My mom’s cousin — a vibrant,  funny, strong and beautiful soul. A force of gravity, who drew friends and family into her orbit with fierce affection. It’s hard to come to terms with, but art helps. As I write, I’m listening to one of her favourite artists, Renée Fleming, singing arias, and looking at sketches of my cousin’s one-time country cottage. The sketches capture the charm not only of the place, but the woman herself. Art connects us all, living and dead. For that, I’m very grateful.