Showing posts with label mothers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mothers. Show all posts

1/19/11

Happy Birthday Mom



Happy Birthday Mom...you would have turned 80 last Sunday. So hard to believe. Did I ever get a chance to thank you for introducing me to the world of art as a young girl. I'll  never forget our trips to Denver to see amazing works of art at the Denver Art Museum. I still remember attending opera, the ballet and the numerous plays you took me to. I'll never forget the first time I saw "The Hobbit" with you, and was gently, but firmly, pulled into the world of Tolkien. Oh, all those Saturday morning modern dance and art classes at the college. Those wonderful hikes through and up the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. 14,000 foot peaks! With you! I can only hope that I have done as well as you did, with my own two children (who you would have loved immensely). I understand now why Dad called you "Cheri" (not your real name of Marilyn), because this means "darling" in french. And you were exactly that...

Pictured above: Marilyn, 1955, taken by my father, Thomas Jones.

12/3/10

Dear Diary: My Life. This Week...


What a week. After spending Monday and Tuesday posting new "goodies in Etsy, I have turned "inward"– exploring new work involving Mom, and how her early death affected me. I'm thinking about this because I was recently asked to submit to a new publication that is "in the works". It involves answering some tough questions about my experiences as an "artist", and a request for some art that is inward-looking, personal. I have been skirting the issue for years, knowing full well that some day I would have to embrace Her, fully, in my art. I have felt her in the studio with me, as I peruse old photos of her. All I have left of her "life" are her old cookbook (her notations are in the margins, along with unknown bits of dried food), one of her art history books (complete with her handwritten lecture notes) and her photos from the 1950's, right before I was born. As I work on this particular piece, I seem to be having some heartfelt, silent conversations with her...feels good. Love you mom.

Pictured: work in progress.