December Newsletter

Click here for December news! Below is an excerpt.

Progress this month was slow as molasses with Irrevocable Flux, which is kind of apropos as there is a very amber tone throughout the pieces. I cut myself grace for the wild weeks of November and my own struggles, and have set my eye and studio as a destination for a completion deadline in Spring. Below is a companion for the photo above. 
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Under strange hands and

Sunny, dry skies

I want, I want

At ease
Instead, I am not

I walked into my mother’s facility and glanced at the flyer for the family holiday dinner posted above the sign-in log. The first post-COVID. It hit me like a ton of bricks – this is the SEVENTH holiday season she is stuck in this place. That is one heavy fucking stone. Uneasy? No wonder.

Calcification. 

Silence is keeping the meaning of the boring details to yourself. It’s been such a long, lonely quiet keeping vigil, some no longer ask after my mother. My mother, my mother. Mine other. Mime other. My nother. My other. Oh, how she’s suffered. I will never really know.

But also, so it is not lost – Yesterday I said, “I love you mom. You know I love you, right?” “Mm-hmm,” she said. Then I said, “And you love me, right?” “Yeah,” she said, turning her gaze slightly towards me with the faintest hint of a smile. There is no one to take your place.

My ears now are burning. Mormor used to say that means someone is talking about you. I can’t stop thinking about the Yosemite postcard Monika sent me – the blue of the sky, the red of the mountain climber’s shirt and my mother’s handwriting on the back from oh, so long ago.
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