When we're playing connect-the-dots with our imagination, our inner child has the ability to point out the obvious of which our intellect has failed to grasp. If you are uneasy and don't know what is bothering you, give your hands the freedom to scribble across the page, maybe, giving you the answers you just might be seeking.
One afternoon I was drawing circles with my nondominant hand, not paying much attention to what I was doing. I thought I was drawing flowers. After I finished, I saw big circles and little circles. I guess I was in an angry defensive mood. I've always had a hard time expressing my anger. I began filling the circles with big eyes, wrinkles age spots and angry mouths. The figures quickly began resembling my parents. "Aha, it was them against me!" This is a good example of letting our hands tell us what is bothering us. I was still angry at my parents for dying and leaving me all alone in the world. I wondered how my hands knew that I was angry after all these ten years.
A kick here and therefor my mom, my daughters and me,
rivalry inscribed from birth to grave/
sweet kisses turning into salty tears/
Do as I say not as I do!
Silent wars/screaming hostility/
Who's right? Who's not?
With pods revolting and roots
diving deep for refuge/
Caffeine, Nicotine and Prozac
Swallowing our kingliest bliss/
Mothers/Daughters flags of far too many
Dimensions to unfurl on paper.
These are two of my clay sculptures. In my eyes, I see a mother looking into a pond as if it was a crystal ball, trying to find just the right words to tell her daughter dancing to her side how much she loves and needs her. Her daughter is caught up in her own thoughts almost unaware of the power she has over her mom.
We have imprinted in our family's genes, all the good and all the bad, all the talents and all the vices that make us who we are. Mom and I lost and found each other...over and over. It wasn't until I had my own kids that I finally realized errors, hesitations and human failings can be repaired where there is love.
