Sunday, April 24, 2016
Here's what I can tell you about the painting: it's about trying to do what's best, but still living with the fears and anxieties of both the known and the unknown. There is faith, but there is also doubt about doing the right thing, about being the best parent or spouse or partner or friend. It's about what happens inside that house: good, bad or indifferent, we don't know, but can only guess.
Sunday, April 10, 2016
I'm a child of the 50's, as is my husband, and we are both products of Angry Mothers. To this day, my husband gets nervous when someone starts vacuuming, PTSD from having his mother yank the Hoover around as she furiously cleaned house. My Angry Mother memories are of slamming drawers and smoldering silences, her anger flaring up when I would become sad or angry myself. 50's mothers weren't supposed to show anger or be angry or even have negative thoughts. But of course they did, and because they had to appear to be fine, all went inward and then projected back out when least expected--fires that, once they received oxygen, couldn't stop burning.