An Update from the Rainy Days … Weeks … Months …

The Story of Illness

Oh, to find the energy!

To be able to embody it.

To be able to do the work I feel called to do.

To manifest my visions.

To be fed by them, and to feed in turn,

in an endless cycle of exchange, 

of gifting.

The energy will return, in time.

I trust myself to what will be.

To the story of illness I am living.

(2021–2022)

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I was hoping to have posted something more here by now, but with the project that unexpectedly fell through (for the time being), and being unable to photograph a major knitting creation (due to the disorder of doing some redecorating), and not being able to work in my studio (due to said disorder), plus experiencing the malaise of yet another intensely wet and gloomy (and mouldy!) not-quite summer, combined with the cost to my energy of doing physiotherapy exercises every morning … well, you get the idea. 

I am also trying to read too many books (feminist literature is so enlivening!), despite my mind slipping over the meanings of words and struggling to comprehend what, at other times, I would absorb more easily.

But there are glimmerings, seeds being planted, ideas sparked. Images want to be manifested.

Soon, soon, I say. Your time will come.

I love the feeling of creativity beginning to burgeon, even if just hesitantly.

I’ve been thinking back over the past ten years, and all of the learning and growing I have done; and how the past five years have almost broken me, but how much further I have come despite the madness of the world and the pain of uncertainty. (I think I can be proud of who I am becoming.)

I cannot do my creative work right now. That’s just how it is. It’s frustrating, but it’s also okay.

I’ve missed summer—some warmth and sunshine before winter would be welcome—but I am sinking down into autumn, and all is well. 

This is the story of illness. My story. 

I hope there will be more to tell soon.

Summer blues, March 2022

Soil Mother Fed By Her Vultures (Çatalhöyük)

I’ve been taking an extended break from art-making, so this is the last thing I painted, way back in August last year. I haven’t shared it until now because, along with a piece of writing, it was meant to be a contribution to a collaborative project. But since that is now on hold indefinitely, I’ve decided to reveal the Soil Mother in all her glory.

This is my imaginative rendering of the Neolithic town of Çatalhöyük (found in modern day Turkey), combining two motifs: a headless Mother Goddess figurine, who, to me, represents the fertility of the soil (the original found here; one of many such figures found at the site); and vultures, as depicted in the famous ‘vulture shrine’ mural, which portrays the ‘excarnation’ (de-fleshing) of bodies prior to burial (a common Neolithic practice). 

I liked the headless figures from the mural echoing the headless figurine, pointing towards the primacy of the body in early cultures, rather than the overly rational or controlling mind.

The vultures are a symbol of death as part of life, and life emerging from death. Neolithic people understood that the Life Mother is also the Death Mother—that the bountiful, often pregnant or large-breasted Goddess, also appears as the bone-white Goddess of death and decay. Vultures were sacred to the Goddess in her death aspect, and by eating the dead, transforming their bodies into the soil which gives rise to new life, they were awe-inspiring agents of regeneration. Death, though mysterious, was not to be feared, but embraced as part of the cycle of life.

I hope that the postponed project does eventually come to some kind of fruition, and this image will reach a larger audience. I also hope to get back into my studio in the coming weeks and months and bring forth more of my visions. Until then, I am just moving with the natural cycle, knowing that death and falling away is the mother to new life, new creativity.

As always, this image is available from Redbubble.

Soil Mother Fed By Her Vultures (Çatalhöyük),
watercolours and gouache on gesso prepared cardboard (2021)

Returning and Remembering

While beneficial, my six months away from social media and blogging hasn’t been anywhere near enough, particularly as poor health kept me from achieving as much as I had hoped. So while I am now back from my break, and plan to post here if/when I can, I’ll still be limiting my online presence.

August 2021

As my long-term followers would know, at the end of each year I tend to sum up my achievements, to remind myself of what I have undertaken and created. Obviously this time I am a little overdue, but since some significant things did happen in 2021 I do want to look back briefly.

Firstly, there was the exhibition of women’s art in New Zealand in June: The Life I Have Not Lived But Can Remember, thanks to the organising of Renee Gerlich. It was so exciting and humbling to have my work shown alongside that of so many other talented women artists and culture-makers. The exhibition has the potential to expand and be shown in other places, and the art can be seen on Instagram: @womenremember

I was delighted to have two of my paintings included in the online gallery associated with Wisdom Across the Ages, the wonderful virtual symposium held in celebration of Marija Gimbutas’ centennial, presented by the Association for the Study of Women and Mythology (ASWM), in cooperation with the Institute of Archaeomythology. That exhibition ran from 10th July until the end of the year. 

A shortened version of my review of Medicine Woman: Reclaiming the Soul of Healing by Lucy H. Pearce, was published in Sage Woman magazine, issue 96, which I unexpectedly received in the mail in October. 

I also FINALLY got my act together and acquired some shelving to house my (far too) many books. My studio is now much more organised—no more piles of books on the floor! 

I am disappointed that I haven’t been able to utilise the last six months more productively in terms of art-making, but I feel as if I am in a much-needed fallow time creatively, as well as attending to some other necessities in my life. I want to be ‘nobody’ for a while longer, to continue to gather in energies until I am ready to reemerge.