This page waits patiently for my thoughts; I began it a year ago and pull it out now and then, thinking, "What should I write?" Because, you see, the words are as important to me as the art. I guess I don't want to "mess it up," since I really like where the page is going so far.
Layers of paint, some text, printing with bits and pieces of things.
Tearing, gluing, creating texture, and all the while my eyes fly to my mother's face.
I pulled this out this morning to capture it with my camera. Mothers have been much on my mind lately, as I pray for an online friend and a mother she loves dearly.
We take them for granted, believing in our hearts - when our brain knows better - that they'll always be here to answer a question, to give advice, to hold us when we need holding.
Mothers are the glue, I think, that holds us together, and when we lose them, we lose a huge chunk of ourselves. At least, I did.
My eyes keep revisiting her eyes. I wonder what she'd tell me about this photo. Most likely, she'd keep it short and sweet...oh, you were about x months here. My mom would most likely not have told me her dreams from that time in her life, what she hoped would happen. Probably, if pushed, she'd simply have said, " I just wanted to be a good mother."
I wish I had poked at her more, finding out what she was like as a woman. Not just my mother, but Annie. Annie who loved to dance. Annie who wanted to be respected and thought well of. Annie, who when she married, really didn't know how to cook. Annie, one of 14, who didn't marry until she was 25 or so, unheard of or maybe thought little of in that time and age.
Annie, who desparately wanted children of her own, and nearly lost her first, me. Doctors advised a D and C, but she refused. This was not often given advice back in the 1950s, so, most likely, the doctors may have well thought both of us were in trouble.
Annie hung on and so did I. But, what thoughts went through her head?
If I could go back in time, I know I'd tell her I loved her, that she was a good mom. But, I'd also ask more questions.
What else did you want from life? Did you even know? For whom did you vote, or did you not vote at all?
How did you make perogie? Teach me, and don't tell me to go buy Mrs. T's!
How did you feel as you cared for your dying mother? I was far too wrapped up in my own world, not realizing she was steadily losing weight as she tried to care for her cancer ridden mother and be there, at the same time, for her own husband and 4 children. I'd like to think I'd have stepped in more to help.
So, I'm still not sure where this page will go. Will it be a letter filled with questions for her? Will it be a collection of memories?
The page will wait patiently and will be here when I'm ready.
Note: The photo is a TAP transfer done on old text. I scanned the image, resized it, and transferred it onto a vintage text page. Be sure to visit Lesley Riley's blog for a chance to win a copy of her newest book, Creative Image Transfer. I'm delighted to have my art in it!