I have to, I have to, I have to...

I have to go down to Florida and attend a trust meeting where we vote on suspending the gift giving for at least a year. So sad, but we are out of money. And where I will run into my ex-husband and that always seems to make me sick. In fact, I feel quiet nauseous today. And I will see my mother and that carries some baggage too. I feel like Persephone traveling between worlds. Which is hell and which is heaven? It's not so easily labeled. I will also get a chance to catch up with my 15 year old son, and meet his school advisor. It could be heavy. I also have to attend an art opening that my Bed Song painting is in! Isn't it crazy how the timing worked out? I am in a juried group show in my mom's hometown that opens while I am visiting! So... its all about riches. But even riches are part of our luggage.
This collage painting is called- like the text in it says- A Cry For Help. When I made it it really helped me get through what I was in the midst of... (which ironically, to put it simply, was too much family). It's just under 6 x 9 inches and I've priced it at $75.
Though instead of buying it, if you should find yourself of similar mind, you should make your own and see what happens.
I have to go paint now!

Isn't this the time of year we do impulsive things?

I remember seeing the back of Malcom McMullen scooting off on his bicycle after I heard the door bell ring when I was in about 6th grade. At the door my nanny found a giant heart-shaped box of chocolates with a little silver bracelet taped on top. I still have the bracelet with Malcom's name etched onto it. How brave he was!
And dozens (30?) years later I drove my 11 year old son on an icy February morning to deliver roses to an unsuspecting girl. Just outside the door he had cold feet and we both realized the flowers were in danger of freezing before their prime effect was to be had. He flung them at the door- rang the bell- ran to the car- and as his chauffeur, I dutifully sped us away...
Ah! What speeds us on at these moments? Is it love?
Small collage with paint on wood. 3.25 x 6 inches, I call it "...loosing my mind".

scattered

I am surprised I have a shadow for to do so, I must have substance. I feel vaporous.
So depressed about my children and their choices. I am powerless.
Who am I if I am not their mother anymore?
I threw down maps....
I am nothing but tracks between places I have been...

Smell the Roses

I made this wood and paint construction while the babysitter held my son. I was desparate to understand what I was going through and needed to make art to get there. This forest features a giant rose and an exhausted mother in her house shaped space. She needs to turn towards the flower and breath deeply. 

Though I loved being a mother it really stripped me down to my skeletal soul. Does falling in love make your vision narrow and yet open your body?

Nests in the past

I love these two paintings... even though they were painted in times of struggle. I felt very alone building the nest... even though my husband worked the farm and was managing the addition onto the house, I was often alone. It felt as though I had really gone out on a limb being a wife and mother.  The long narrow painting was about Time and the midnight care of my son that probably connected me to other mothers across the globe. I consoled myself with the thought that while I was up nursing, rocking, and living without sleep, other women were in their own houses doing it too. I collaged individual panels of house shaped wood panels so that we would really be connected.

Home with baby

9 x 9 inches, paint and headline text collage. If the homecoming was not the way she imagined... can you imagine what she was thinking?

This was done for 1991, the fall I took my son to France to meet my grandmother, aunts and uncles, and stay at a castle with my sister. On the trip my son rolled over for the first time and I learned how to manuever his additional luggage along with mine. It was... idealistic to return home.

A Reach of arms, with car in flight

and maps.
9 X 9 INCHES
This started out as an idea for "surrender"...
I think there was a whole decade where my Volvo transported me and the boys to every dreamed destination. The car symbolized the height of my soccer-mom status. (Now I have a convertible that squishes the boys knees and barely holds the lacrosse gear.)
This painting could be called "Reach and Release".

Motherhood

9 x 9 inches, acrylic on panel

When I had my children I found out who I was meant to be. For a little while.
Especially when sleep deprived!