A line of gold...
“There’s something like a line of gold thread running through a man’s words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.” – John Gregory Brown
This may be the most raw and personal blog post yet. It also may be a rambling one for the first 3 paragraphs, but hang in there, I’ll do my best to come full circle (paragraph 4, for those of you that are up to speed) and elaborate on the inspiration behind my next series of paintings.
If you haven’t been following along on my creative journey the past few years, you may not know that I have been a caregiver for my Mom and Dad for over 6 years. (My mother passed away Nov 2019) Both of them battling different types of dementias. Yup, lightening struck twice in our family cocoon. (sarcasm, if you didn’t hear the tone) For those of you that HAVE been following along, I am actually growing a complex that I may sound like a broken record, and a depressing one at that. This will be my 12th Collection release (in two years) and ALL of them have somehow been inspired by this process of caregiving. Themes of grieving, reflecting on family; childhood memories and other connected themes have been the inspiration for my paintings. These themes inspire me to paint and to write about my human experience.
I usually think I do a good job of balancing the reality of the hardships with the perspective and wisdom weened from these past years challenges. But my previous reference of “growing a complex” comes from the wicked thing called social media. This week alone (the crucial promotional week prior to launching a collection) I have actually lost followers. It eats away at my confidence in my work. I know. I shouldn’t let it affect me but it does. I think, “is the writing of my posts too depressing, always talking about disease and dying? Is my art not good enough?” I know for a fact, I don’t “socialize” enough on social media to make that algorithm promote me but I’m too busy making art and holding a day job. The worry of counting followers is because I have reduced my salon hours to make more time for painting and I’m praying it’ll be a financially fruitful choice (not only creative fulfilment). lol, I would guess my Mom may be chuckling in heaven over that last statement. Art. Profitable? Yes, Mom, but there’s no pension in hairdressing either. lol.
My truth is I’ve waited so long to create space in my life for art. 50 or so years. I put everything else first. A practical career in hairdressing, marriage, a child, a house, being the primary bread winner for my family for the majority of my adult life and then caring for my aging parents. But when my parents were diagnosed it actually GAVE me the reason to pursue my art. Yes, time has been my enemy. There have not been enough hours in the day to run two businesses and all the fore mentioned but I have done it. I have worked 12 hour days 6 days/week for over 2 years now. Why? Because if I didn’t start making room for art now, when would I? The other reason I’ve worked myself to the bone trying to juggle my day job and build my art career? My dad. He knew hard work and he loved it. (more on that in a bit)
And here’s the part where I promised I’d come full circle. I am not going to do what the masses of social media want me to do. I’m not going to please the Instagram algorithm. I am going to honour my journey as a human, as an artist and as a daughter that is hurting by watching her parents slowly die. This is life. Life is hard. Past 50, it isn’t often pretty. But the emotional pain has made me stronger and given me gratitude for the perspective it has given me. And what better way to honour the people that formed me than to pour my heart and soul into something and paint for them. So here we go. A story for you about the inspiration behind my next collection…..
THE OLD GROWTH COLLECTION, inspired by a decent man that mutually respected the forest and saw trees in quantities of cords:
The wisdom weened from watching loved ones inch closer to the end of their life is that you become crystal clear that every minute of life is so precious and time must be utilized doing what you love the most.
Recently my father fell ill and we almost lost him. He had a massive stroke and is still mostly paralyzed and blind. But he is alive. Here’s what happened. I got a call from my brother telling me time was not on his side. I dropped everything and raced to be with my Dad. I sat by his bedside for up to 9 hours each day. My brother by my side. Yes, we were lucky (in this Covid era) to be with him. (Because he didn’t go to the hospital, remaining in his care home, and because he was on palliative notice, we were allowed in.) Day after day we said our goodbyes. For 5 days the Dr, nurse and care aides told us he wouldn’t make it. We held his hand, we fed him, we played his favourite music, we relayed the memories in the photo albums my brother and I poured over. We told him what a good father he was. IS. We loved him. The thing about knowing someone is going to die is you are graced with that time to say all the things you want to say. What a gift. And we did. Another silver lining appeared in the midst of all this. My brother and I became so much closer, so much stronger. A team. An unbreakable team. My father has survived his stroke. Barely. His life is very challenging now. He has a lot of pain and through it all he thanked every single person that helped him and never once complained. He is my hero.
“In the darkest days, when I feel weak and sad, I remember whose daughter I am and I am inspired.” - Unknown
During that time I reflected on the person my father moulded me into. We are our parent’s legacy. We ween our traits through their example. He has never been a man to reflect on a deep psychological level which made his actions essential. Through example, he taught me to be honest, sarcastic, earnest, reliable, kind and forgiving. His entire life, he didn’t see “the cup half full”, he believed it overflowed. This man loved hard labour. He never complained for a moment about how hard his job was. He was a Millwirght Electrician and he pulled a lot of cable in his time. He also worked in remote communities, having to drive long distances to and from work and home. He loved the crew he worked with and didn’t want to retire at 65. In fact he went back to work on call a few times. Hard work was also woven into his favourite hobbies. We lived on 1 1/2 acres and he mowed the whole damn thing himself. We had two wood stoves, which meant we needed a lot of firewood. And because we lived through the 80’s recession while my Dad was laid off from work, he would go out to the forestry lots and collect all the scrap logs. (damned if he would agree with my mom to cut a single gorgeous tree down on our own property) He and his buddy would process all their own firewood. Dad took pride in cutting the log lengths to exact measurement of the wood stove. He loved stacking wood, he loved splitting wood and stoking the wood stove. He taught me how to split a cord of wood and that Arbutus burns slow and hot. Every one of these paintings in this next series have been painted to honour him.
“My father didn’t tell me how to live. He lived and let me watch him do it.” – Unknown
This next body of original paintings is titled The Old Growth Collection. The first painting began as a drawing I did while I sat by his bedside. I was watching the trees outside his window bend and arc in a wind storm. Never breaking. Standing strong despite the elements power. This metaphor of my Dad’s strength was founded in that scene out his window. I held his hand and we danced with our arms to beat of those swaying trees. Connected. The wind, the trees, my Dad and me. All the titles are related to my Dad’s love of wood and trees. I hope you find joy, love and inspiration in these paintings as I have. And I hope you have the time to tell your loved ones how much you cherish them as I have. This collection will be released to my Subscribers/Collectors on Friday April 16th at 5pm PST. Please contact me if you would like to be on that list.
Thank you for reading. xo Ronei.
