Sir William Nicholson's book An Alphabet, first published in 1898.
A print-maker and mentor I knew once said, "After we finish making it, it's dead to us." I've often pondered that melancholy statement. Indeed, once the process of making, the relationship with the piece is over, the artist might still feel a deep attachment, but the lover is gone.
That said, these works of art are often said to take on a new life of their own, a new relationship with the world, when introduced to an audience. So maybe the completion of a work of art is less like the death of a relative or loss of a lover, and more like watching a child become an adult and move on.
Any way I look at it, it is a loss.