I just read this and found it really powerful. I love the "flip side" image. I lost my mother over 35 years ago. I don't think I'll ever be "over it" and don;'t really want to be.
Hi Judy, so nice to hear from you. After mom died, and I was in the early stages of grieving, a friend said, your mother will always be with you. I found that very comforting and in some sense true. I think “not getting over it” so to speak might have a similar effect: the two people remain connected. Glad you found this to be powerful and thank you for letting me know.
Grief is so complex, and this tribute is absolutely beautiful. It's true, Mariah. I didn't know your mom. But, because of you -- your stories, your art, and especially you, yourself -- it's almost like I did (do). I love the part about your drawing bleeding through and creating an unexpected imprint of the original image of her. It is a powerful metaphor. And of course, you know I'm a hug fan of your series of ancient goddess figures. "Many goddess figurines were sacred, believed to possess divine powers. Sort of like mothers."
Hi Rhonda! I'm smiling at these delightful comments - and compliments. Thank you! You're right - you do know my mother, in a sense. That's a pleasing thought, which she would have "gotten a kick out of." That phrase is hers, too; she had a low bar for delight and was continually "getting a kick out of" things. So many ways her life and love "bleed through." And yes, those last two lines about goddess figurines and mothers: despite years of research and drawings, I hadn't quite made that connection until writing that story. The magic of art.
Dear Mariah, what a lovely way to honor my friend Sarah’s (Sally’s) incredible spirit. I have so much to appreciate about her: a sharp wit, fabulous humor, sense of adventure, and the love she showed us all. I especially am grateful that she introduced us for a lifelong sistership. Well done, my dear Mariah.
Hi Tres, I was 27 when Sally left Art, and when you invited both of us to spend that winter solstice holiday season with you in New Mexico, I was so touched by the invitation - and we both loved the experience. So glad you knew her & loved her - as a colleague, friend, & family. 💜
Today is my mom's birthday. She would have been 95. After my dad died, she started painting by joining an activity at her assisted living home. I never though about it this way, but clearly that was something she did to help "find her way out of the cave of sorrow". Sincere thanks to you, Mariah, and all the artists out there who are helping us all find our way.
Hi Anne, So our mothers’ birthdays are two days and five years apart. (Mom’s is June 5.) I liked learning about your mother‘s experience with painting and your new interpretation of it. Thanks so much for letting me know.
Beautiful. Like you I am finding my way out of the cave of sorrow through my art. It does not lessen the pain but it provides brief respites from the grief.
Yes, Judy, I too miss your dear David and am glad to hear you're "finding your way out of the cave of sorrow through art." What an artistic image you created, right there!
And yes, a brief respite and also a way to channel the pain, seems to me, to transform it, even, into something beautiful or meaningful or both.
I just read this and found it really powerful. I love the "flip side" image. I lost my mother over 35 years ago. I don't think I'll ever be "over it" and don;'t really want to be.
Hi Judy, so nice to hear from you. After mom died, and I was in the early stages of grieving, a friend said, your mother will always be with you. I found that very comforting and in some sense true. I think “not getting over it” so to speak might have a similar effect: the two people remain connected. Glad you found this to be powerful and thank you for letting me know.
Grief is so complex, and this tribute is absolutely beautiful. It's true, Mariah. I didn't know your mom. But, because of you -- your stories, your art, and especially you, yourself -- it's almost like I did (do). I love the part about your drawing bleeding through and creating an unexpected imprint of the original image of her. It is a powerful metaphor. And of course, you know I'm a hug fan of your series of ancient goddess figures. "Many goddess figurines were sacred, believed to possess divine powers. Sort of like mothers."
Hi Rhonda! I'm smiling at these delightful comments - and compliments. Thank you! You're right - you do know my mother, in a sense. That's a pleasing thought, which she would have "gotten a kick out of." That phrase is hers, too; she had a low bar for delight and was continually "getting a kick out of" things. So many ways her life and love "bleed through." And yes, those last two lines about goddess figurines and mothers: despite years of research and drawings, I hadn't quite made that connection until writing that story. The magic of art.
What a lovely tribute to your mother, and to finding your way through grief. I love how queenly your mother looks in the photo.
Thanks, Susan! And thanks on the queen's behalf as well. :-) That was from their wedding; hence the bow in her hair.
Beautiful essay.
Thanks so much, Hilary.
Dear Mariah, what a lovely way to honor my friend Sarah’s (Sally’s) incredible spirit. I have so much to appreciate about her: a sharp wit, fabulous humor, sense of adventure, and the love she showed us all. I especially am grateful that she introduced us for a lifelong sistership. Well done, my dear Mariah.
Hi Tres, I was 27 when Sally left Art, and when you invited both of us to spend that winter solstice holiday season with you in New Mexico, I was so touched by the invitation - and we both loved the experience. So glad you knew her & loved her - as a colleague, friend, & family. 💜
Today is my mom's birthday. She would have been 95. After my dad died, she started painting by joining an activity at her assisted living home. I never though about it this way, but clearly that was something she did to help "find her way out of the cave of sorrow". Sincere thanks to you, Mariah, and all the artists out there who are helping us all find our way.
Hi Anne, So our mothers’ birthdays are two days and five years apart. (Mom’s is June 5.) I liked learning about your mother‘s experience with painting and your new interpretation of it. Thanks so much for letting me know.
Beautiful. Like you I am finding my way out of the cave of sorrow through my art. It does not lessen the pain but it provides brief respites from the grief.
Yes, Judy, I too miss your dear David and am glad to hear you're "finding your way out of the cave of sorrow through art." What an artistic image you created, right there!
And yes, a brief respite and also a way to channel the pain, seems to me, to transform it, even, into something beautiful or meaningful or both.
Thanks for writing.