Mothers, brothers, and tears

I had visitors over the weekend.

Well, technically, they weren't really coming to see me as such, as in a social visit to see how I was. They were actually coming to see themselves.

In paint.

David and Martyn came all the way from Bath to view the painting I'd done of them. They had made arrangements to stay in this area and brought along Martyn's parents who are also depicted in the painting.

They arrived full of good cheer, and it was a delight to see them all and welcome them in to my new house. They admired the paintings hanging on the walls of my hallway, which I count as my mini gallery, and then looked askance at me. Where was it?

 I smiled, and led the way to my studio, opened the door and was hit by an overpowering smell of oil, turps, and paint. And said that I was pleased that the painting had now been hung and was residing upright on the wall rather than horizontal on my workdesk. And nodded towards it, although I didn't really need to do that, since it was quite obvious where it was. "Oooh it's big, bigger than I thought!" was the first comment, and they stood looking at it in silence. Then the comments started as they took it in turns to stand away from it, to view it better. They asked for the piece of wallpaper they'd sent me to view the painting against it, and could see that it would be fine against the heavy patterning. They were surprised at how deep the canvas was at 3 inches which is a bit deeper than usual, but it added to the dramatic aspect of it, and their room was easily big enough to take it,  and it added to the viewing experience in that where ever you stood or sat within the room the painting would be in 3D because of the deep edges.

I showed them the working drawings, and the preliminary sketches I'd done. And described the painting process of the acrylic underpainting, the thicker coats of acrylic to give the oils depth, and then the oils themselves, the the silver paint of the jagged wind applied with palette knife. As were the thicker parts of the paint to give it more texture.

They loved it. All of them.

But, the best bit, for me, was the fact it caused tears and upset. Instant tears on the first viewing. The tears of a mother as she sees her first born depicted in paint, her first born who although a man died too young, way too young. That's something that no mother should have to experience and is tragic for any woman to have to contend with, and will probably never fully recover from. So, when she burst into tears at the first sight of it that was the best reaction there could have been for me. Because it meant I'd got it right, it meant I'd got the right feeling in the picture, it meant it was the right face, the right expression, the right depiction, and the tears were the best affirmation for me, to prove that. A mothers tears for her first born. And I'm sorry that it made her cry but pleased as well. Really pleased!

After that, the positive comments, the hugs of thanks, the smiles of wonder, the silence as they stared at it, and the words they spoke afterwards, added to the whole wonder of me making a painting for someone. A special painting, that means so very much to them, and always will because they designed it, picked the subject matter, colours, setting, that it would be in oils on a large block canvas, that it would have various family members in it, that it would be a happy painting celebrating their past, but looking towards the future too. They will spend many hours staring at the painting when it goes to hang on their wall, and will love it.

And I stood there, quietly pleased with myself that I'd done it for them, and that they had asked me to do it. But then, the mother said she knew I'd do a good job, and named the other paintings I'd done for the family in the past. Paintings that they still have on their walls, treasured paintings, bringing love and happy memories... I'd forgotten about some of them, since it was so long ago that I did some of them, but remembered them instantly when she named them of course, they are my creations, and well loved by me as much as them.

We had tea and biscuits after that, and sat chatting about many things, life, love, friendship, fun. And all of it was done with laughter, and an ease of jovial conversation when you know that everyone is on the same wavelength, and of a job well done. And they are convinced I will get more commissions through it, as various friends of theirs are intrigued to see it, and have heard so much about it. I hope so, that's always my desire.

They didn't take the painting with them, it stays with me a while longer whilst its still drying. So, I have the pleasure of it, before it goes to Bath to live. 

And maybe it'll be the spark of a new idea, a new painting, not yet painted, but just a thought, in someones head....

Batch theory

I have a theory, well, I have many actually, but this is one that always seems to be true in my life. That things happen in batches, and also don't happen in batches as well. Let me explain........

This week is a busy week for me, I'm sorting out various things that need time and input from me, which is all fine, because I like to be busy. But I knew that I needed to pop into the library at Burton on Trent to discuss the talk I shall be doing there in three weeks time. I knew it would help me to see the venue, and suss out where I should be standing and hear what would be needed from me. I've half written my piece, so that's not a problem although I have noticed that the time slot fluctuates in various conversations, between ten-fifteen-twenty minutes that I need to talk for! So that needs to be finalised fully. The librarians are friendly and pleasant and the two I know best there were helpful in their advice and support as we discussed the event and the date for International Women's Day. I came away happy that I knew what was expected of me. And went in search of a suitable top to buy to wear for an Erotic Artist doing a talk to a group of people who might be vaguely interested. Perhaps they're expecting something sexy but paint splattered!!!!

And as well as that I have been asked to paint a commission. Which is great. I love commissions, unlike a lot of artists. I received an email the other day mentioning it and enquiring about prices, which I replied to and was delighted when it was accepted. And I loved the fact that it was inspired in a way from the erotic abstract that I showed you the other week of browns, purples, silver, red and creams, although the subject matter is totally different and not erotic at all, although it does depict love.........

....love in various forms......

The commission is quite specific, which is good for me, and means I know what is expected of me. It will be a landscape of a beautiful famous place in England. It will depict two people in the fore-ground with their pets. It will feature the parents of one of them, and their pet. It will also depict the dead brother of one of them, and the dead mother of the other, as spiritual beings looking down at them. And there will be eyes and happiness depicted in the painting possibly within the trees. And weather, Autumnal weather with wind. And a cloudy forbidding sky. And it will be vibrant and dramatic. And just to add to that it will be abstract. So a abstract/surreal/fantasy/spiritual painting of a famous landscape.

Which is very exciting for me to do.

But just to add to it, to make it incredibly poignant for me......the dead brother was actually one of my closest friends.............................

Does that make it easier or harder, I wonder.

And I think the answer is "Easier".

Because I loved him, as a friend. He was one of the nicest men I've ever known, and he was and is deeply loved by his brother who has commissioned this painting. And he is deeply loved by his parents who will be featured in this painting.

There will be a lot of love within it.

As well as weather!

I'm so going to enjoy doing this.


........

I was going to make this blog post about the erotic abstract I showed you last week and explain a bit more about it and how it was designed and how I created it, but I'll leave it for another time, soon....

And I was also going to tell you about my friend, the local historian writer, Stuart, who gave me a beautiful Camellia from his well established garden, this week, which I shall love having in my new garden. I have planted it in a large blue ceramic pot which is outside my front door, and when the yellow and cream blooms appear they will compliment the pot beautifully. I will enjoy having it very much and shall treasure it as a gift from my friend.


You see, I've got so much to tell you!

I bet next week nothing happens!

Its the batch theory, you see!!! LOL

Love accepted

It's a reflective time, and certainly a strange one.

People are wishing me a Happy Christmas full of good cheer and bonhomie and all I can think about is a funeral to arrange. Christmas seems a long way away.........

I open the cards that the postman brings, and am not prepared for what is there inside. A mix of  the expected "Have a Happy Christmas full of sparkle and  merriment" along with the sentiments of "So sorry to hear that you've got divorced but all the best for the future" and the "So sorry to hear the sad news about your Mum and we're thinking of you at this sad time" cards. I put them in two seperate places within the same room. To keep them apart. Happy and Sad.

Never the two shall meet.



But then, aren't they actually saying the same thing?

I think they are.

They are saying that people care, that they are thinking of me, and want to tell me so via a few words in a card. They are passing on love in various forms.

And isn't that what life is all about?

Death and illness are a huge part of life. But illness can be a terrible thing and hard to live with in the long term. Death will come to us all, its just hoping that we don’t suffer too much when we get there! We’re born, and we die, its just that we hope for some happy times inbetween – which is where love comes in. Love of life, love of things that make us happy, love of experiences and places, love of material things and less tangible ones. And love of people. That is the one that brings it all together – that is what life is ALL about.

I am ever the eternal optimist which has brought me joy, even when things are bad (like this year!) there have been lots of really good times too – it just depends on how you look at life. I avoid being around negative people as much as I can, as they will try and suck the positives out of you and bring you down to their miserable level. I look at the glass as always being “half full” rather than “half empty”. I am also a realist though – and know that you can’t have good things all the time (and how boring life would be if we did!) – but its accepting the bad and dealing with it when it arrives, but trying to avoid it the best we can in the meantime too. And looking for the silver linings in clouds as they are always there to be found.


So, a funeral is obviously a very sad time. But it is also bringing along with it the renewed bond of old friends and close cousins, uncles and aunts, and new friends too. All special in their own unique way.



Which brings me to the kindness of family and friends.
Thankyou my friends for thinking of me, I think of you in turn as I read your words, and that brings me close to you.



My Mum would have loved that.

And I do too.

Musical goodbyes from the heart

I've been to a lot of funerals. Too many of them, for sure.

But part of life is dealing with death.

I haven't arranged many funerals though - only my fathers, and this one for my mum. And whatever hymns we sang that day for him would have been chosen by her. Although the song that was played at the end for him was chosen by me as being the only song he'd ever liked, to my knowledge. And it can still make me cry if I hear it played on the radio, because it reminds me of him.

But this time, I am making the decisions for the hymns, and for the music to walk into, and out from. The hymns were easy enough - there is one funeral hymn in particular that always makes me cry "Lord of all hopefulness" and I've sung it enough times at other funerals. Its part of the saying goodbye, for me, so that was my first choice this time. The other hymn is equally sad, and traditional for a funeral.

As for the walking in piece of music, it has to be something by Mozart, as he was her favourite classical composer, and I've narrowed that down to one piece that seems most appropriate for this purpose.

But, it is the walking out piece of music that has given me the most problems. It had to be by her favouite singer - Frank Sinatra - but he sang so many songs it's been difficult to narrow it down. I remember various songs he sang  that were played in my childhood home whilst I was finding my own loud (!) musical interests (disco, rock, glam rock, and soul) but some of his old songs I still like to listen to when I'm feeling reflective and mellow. So revisiting them all now has been a blast from the past. But so many of them are totally inappropriate for a funeral, as they're about physical love between a man and a woman. I don't want any of those. And ideally I don't want the song the singer is most famous for. It would be ok if that was the only song, but there are so many that are more apt. It just took me a while to find them. Sifting through song lyrics and narrowing it down eventually to just three. I read them, and re-read them, looking for meanings, and every time I read one particular one, it made me cry.  I know that crying is part of the dealing with death, of the acceptance of what is, and what was, and what will no longer be. I understand that. But, these tears were for a different reason. They were happy tears. Tears for love.......... for love experienced.....for understanding love, for happy love.

And I know that when I hear it played at the funeral I shall cry.

Even though I chose it!

But it's right for her, and right as a celebration of her life, and what she was.

And the lovely thing is, that as I am ringing around my cousins - so many of them!- and they all remember her as the vibrant, attractive, fiesty woman that she was, not what she became in the last few years. And two of them told me she was their favourite aunty - which is lovely to hear. So, I've been revisiting her life through my conversations with them, which has been poignant but also refreshing, and lovely in its warm comfort. And I can hear the love they had for her. And I know the love I had for her.

So, the music is right.



Because it will make me cry.

End of an era

Today's the day my Mum died.

It's been a big year. And now this.

I'll talk some more about my Mum.







But not today.