At this time of year I am normally looking forward to visiting the South West, ie. Cornwall. And I have indeed been in both directions this past week but for unexpected reasons. I can't be an artist and speak of expressing oneself without mentioning what occurred last weekend on 8/8/2020.
My mother died unexpectedly but not unsurprisingly Saturday afternoon at home. She couldn't make it through 2020's bizarre events or having to stay confined for longer periods of time. She wasn't physically or mentally strong enough. There's a shift happening, I've been working towards it myself, sadly Mum was never going to choose it.
My feelings have been mixed and I won't go into detail on this post, I'm sure my work will speak for itself.
In terms of expression, I've shed tears and I've expressed my thoughts and feelings not only verbally – a relatively new thing for me, but in writing. Furious writing. And daring to in painting too, something I first attempted with trepidation but also a new sense of serenity.
Last weekend's efforts were supremely delicate, less than 24 hours after her death. I stuffed a couple of the works in the cupboard. Of course these will remain unsold they are that personal. This weekend's an odd, sickly choice of colour, shown here. Perhaps it's a more accurate interpretation of her feelings, which I always sensed, even from afar.
Our relationship is indicative in all my artworks. It was intense and complex. I cannot change that, and why should I? This was my deal on coming into this world, the challenge I faced is part of who I am. In some ways, I lack what others have, in other ways, I have developed sensory skills that may seem superhuman.
If you've been following my posts, you will recognise that SOUTH is the past, childhood, relationships, flow, red. SOUTH has always been testing for me, as I clung to the past but so wanted to let go, then failed at maintaining consistent, trusting relationships; trying to get into flow state when most of the time I functioned naturally in anxiety and fight or flight mode.
WEST is also self-explanatory: evening, pause, reflection, maturity. It is ancestors, the physical, the body, the colour black, and death.
The SOUTH WEST is where Mum was born and where she wants her ashes to be scattered at sea, returning to source.
I said many, many prayers for my mother in recent months, more last Saturday evening. I wish her peace, transcendence into a better life, hope for her soul to find comfort, and forgiveness, in both directions.