Tuesday, May 29, 2012

"What Will I Do With This Room?"


A week or so ago I was digging through the photo box again, and found a picture my daughter had taken of me a couple months after my husband's suicide.   I hadn't seen this photo since it was taken, and forgot there was one representative of that period of my life.   We were in the midst of re-sorting Neil's office, reorganizing stuff, and trying feebly to do the same on an interior level, as well.   I had lost a great deal of weight (for me) and I saw for the first time, in that photo, how lost and shattered that little 92 lb. widow was.

It was a comforting gesture of closure for me to sketch her, lovingly, from nine and a half years later.  Where I would not only be 20 lbs. heavier, but light years happier.   I followed artistic impulse, and thought it interesting I'd left the hands off of Neil's Regulator clock, the clothes in the closet were Neil's, a jumble of unorganized bills in a box (maybe representing the debts he left behind?), and I had drawn both the clock's pendulum and the wedding ring in metallic gold ink.

9 comments:

  1. It's really interesting that you didn't put in the hands on the clock, and yet the pendulum is gold. It's a mystery that probably means something important.

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    1. I would think so, but I haven't figured it out yet. I'm open to suggestions. Maybe no hands means being caught in the seemingly eternal moment. Not sure about the gold. It just seemed like a good idea, somehow. Good to see you both tonight!

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    2. My interpretation would be that spirit is eternal, especially the golden part. Good to see you, too - it makes me happy to live where we see friends here and there.

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    3. Wow, I like that! Now that you point it out, it seems like a no-brainer, but I guess when we're so close to something, it's hard to see. Yes, I agree about the place we live.

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  2. Oh. Exquisite. Sensitive. No sufficient way to express the emotions I felt coming upon, and studying, this work and your words. I am privileged to see this, and share in the wisdom of such thoughtful comments. Thank You. Warm regards.

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    1. Wow, Lindy, that is so kind! It took me several days to make up my mind to post it, as it was an emotional piece. Thanks for the supportive feedback.

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  3. I am so glad I looked for you and found this post. For some reason, you have not been showing up on my blog list so I re-followed you hoping to get your blog back on my list. Thank you for sharing the image and the words. They touched me deeply.

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    1. Oh, Joyce, I'm glad you found me, too! I get that sometimes on my blog, too. You are so welcome, I'm glad you got so much out of the posting. You are one of those who so understand the intense grief. It was hard to decide to post it, but you've been so eloquent about your pain, so that helped. Thanks for the kind comment. I like your puppet!

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