Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Ground Shifting beneath our feet

I awoke early with with thoughts tumbling. Was it too early to take all the coverings from the garden...a freeze warning on Memorial Day and I just put in the last tomato yesterday. But it was so cold in the house and the book called for me to finish it first. An excellent book! Still Alice, by Lisa Genova about a woman with early onset Alzheimer's at 50. A brilliant cognitive psychology professor at Harvard and expert in linguistics slowly loses her thoughts and memories, searching for who she still is. So well written, so informative of what it could be like to lose one's thoughts and memories and still find pleasures in one's life. Tears came when she says "I miss myself." So many thoughts for my mother. At one point in the reading of this book, I had to leave the reading and make a phone call to my mother, just to hear her voice. When I told her I had called wanting to hear her voice, she said "And, how does it sound?" "Oh, so lovely! Just what I needed. How does my voice sound?" Our conversations have changed. I have been painting about the ground shifting beneath our feet in my abstract work for years. I am so aware that the ground does shift that I am more able perhaps to follow my mother through her shifting. My sister is more learned of conditions and she has been more fearful and angry. I have rolled with the shifting, but still so hard to watch as someone slips away while the body seems still so strong. I have learned that the neurons are not firing on all their synapses because they are becoming clogged with amyloid-beta 42 which the body is producing at an accelerated rate. Where will this new information take me? Ah! If only I had more time to delve deeper into each passing thought, but my thoughts are like butterflies, and I have silk scarves to iron before my appointment to drape them as display for the Lost Nation production of Isadora....must get to the iron....ah, perhaps too many irons in the fire.


Unknown said...

Maggie, I love the painting and I certainly understand your thoughts. I care for an aging mother and each day I see her body giving out on her and how it is affecting her emotionally. She has always been very active and to see the downhill slip is heartbreaking. (she sky dived on her 82 birthday). Keep painting. Your work is a gift to you; and your work is a gift to us.

Maggie Neale said...

Zappha, your comments are a gift also. When one spills out (as in apainting and a blog) it is important to fill back up. Comments are nourishment.