Monday, March 30, 2015
I didn't like the title "Little Thieves", but it kept coming to me while I was playing with spray paint, gesso, inks, and cut foil. Over and over, I become aware that for the last 23 years, my heart hasn't been my own, and my babies have embedded themselves into my very being. I can't hold them still. I can barely comfort them for more than a few minutes. They wiggle free, look in the fridge and make plans to meet up with friends, wave good bye.
Two Bridges Review (just published by NYC College of Technology of City university of NY). There are some lines in it about how mother's are always waving goodbye.
...she writes: "Part of the drama of motherhood is letting go. First you release them from your body, then from your breast, then with each milestone they move further away. They need you less and less. The mother is always waving goodbye. There is only so much you can help them with. They learn to spot your failures. You are often helpless. How do you teach them that life is short, so they take the heart when it is offered?"
That is what these pieces are about...The kids are always leaving. And when the kids leave, they take a part of me with them. I try to hold onto them, to keep them close, and it just doesn't fit any of us.
They struggle with it too.