Thursday, April 5, 2012

My Dad was a Rock Collector

 Another week is passing...time unfolds and then is gone.  Snow still flies in northeast:  I am glad to be home, out of the elements and away from clerking at our gallery which was "slow".

Good to be looking at some of the work I have been working on these past fleeting days.  The painting above (24x20 maybe) I removed from a local gallery because it appeared "unfinished " to me, so I revamped it and now it is much more to my sensibilities and it also makes me think of my father and his rock collector facet.  Dad made me look at rocks and my art eye saw the art in them.  Now my paintings speak to me of rocks, levels in the land, what lies beneath, buried and exposed.  Dad, I am thinking of you.
 This one a 12x12x1.5 square in its first evolution...just starting to be exposed.
 Silk scarf segment, still levels of land.  This view comes when the scarf is drying still pinned on the table.  Earth colors, densely mixed, but companioned to white light.
 Small 6x6, earth, rock, levels, and texture....second day of painting.  Finished?  Who can say.
And Mama, I am thinking of you today also.  What are you trying to say to me when the words no longer form in your brain?  I thank you again for giving me the encouragement to make art be my life: your support and your love have sustained me.  The photos I took of you make my brother and sister sad but I feel you in them and they make me proud that you are my mother.  I see you, Mama.


Blue Sky Dreaming said...

Beautiful post...not only the art but the deep connection to both Dad and Mom as the support and influence carried through life.

Maggie Neale said...

Thanks Mary Ann, it's my birthday today...I didn't realize it then but it was my thank you to my parents for having me...blogging/writing can bring up connections the mind hasn't quite formulated.

janetvanfleet said...

How wonderful to see a photograph of your mother. She is beautiful! I just put my mother's ashes in the ground yesterday, here at my house, with sculptures dancing on her grave. Neither of my siblings wanted to be present via the computer, but both my children were there. Families are odd and quirky. Soon you will be the oldest generation in yours, and that will be a new experience. I always hear your love for your mother when you speak about her, and I'm sure that will stay with you.

Maggie Neale said...

Thank you Janet. Such a kind message from you. Many times I feel like the older generation as Mama is not longer guiding, but her presence reminds me of all she has taught me. Peace be with you as the sculptures dance on your mother's grave.