Tonight I wanted to write a post but couldn't think of a topic.
And then I happened to come across this art work
I have never seen it before but it recalls my days as a young mother, perched on the edge of a bed or a couch or a kichen stool, feeding a child or two.
The fingers spreading out and pulling on the skin is a detail I had forgotten but I know my hands remember.
I love the light. I love the crib on the floor by the bed, I often used car capsules the same way.
I love the linens on the bed and I know the comfort of those sheets.
I loved to wear a rustling skirt like the one worn by this mother.
I love the water jar by the bed and remember how there has never been a thirst like that of breastfeeding.
I love the hint of lace on the baby's blanket
and the exquisite beauty of the newborn's head.
I think I want to buy a print. A large one.
Mother. Elin Danielson-Gambogi
Yes, it's fascinating how an art work can bring back all sorts of poignant memories. For me anything featuring school rooms triggers lots of schooling flashbacks.
ReplyDeleteI cant remember ever seeing an artwork featuring a school but that's the whole thing about art, isnt it? We respond to what is meaningful for us
DeleteElin Danielson-Gambogi : I'll immediately look this artist up. Wikipedia. YouTube.
ReplyDeleteA truthful image and moving because it's true. The look on the mother's face, and the light as you say.
And the thought of the child mortality rate in those days. What heartbreak only mothers knew !
Years ago I saw a woman with a pram on the high path of Kelvingrove Park. Spring day.
She stopped and lifted the baby out and spoke to the child in Polish. The joy in her face.
The joy in our connection with our children is unsurpassed, I think. The grief when it fails is also consuming
DeleteEdith Sitwell's A Mother To Her Dead Child.
Delete* The earth : she is too old for your little body. *
The Angelus by Jean-Francois Millet was X-Rayed revealing a small box-like shape.
One theory is that the young married couple in the field are praying over the grave of their child.
My mother (1917-2004) said in her youth she often passed hearses in Glasgow with small coffins.
This Peaceful Painting Hides Something Disturbing. YouTube. Secessio.
Angelus : The Tragic Secret Revealed. YouTube. Historia Regalis.
Now I'm ready to look up Elin Danielson-Gambogi.
My mother died soundlessly on a summer morning in 2014 not 2004. 97. Bright as a button to the end.
DeleteYour mother had the death everyone hopes for
DeleteIt's a peaceful, loving painting. Hopefully we were all nurtured like this..
ReplyDeleteSx
Enough of this kind of nurturing sets a child up for life
DeleteIt's a beautiful painting. I remember the feeding days too and the nights when it was just me and the baby, the only ones awake, by the heater, in the rocking chair, the whole world still and calm around us.
ReplyDeleteYes, a special memory.
DeleteI wanted to nurse my babies as long as possible, given that breast milk smelled better than cows' milk. It was a pleasure for me, and healthy for them.
ReplyDeleteYes, it's just a lovely thing. Of course the babies never stay as those sweet little bundles but become biting, stretching, flailing little gremlins. which is bittersweet
DeleteLovely photo and you are right it does bring back memories. I enjoyed that time tremendously, but I will admit when it was over I felt a bit of freedom.
ReplyDeleteHi Anne, yes! Being constantly available to small humans is a committment
DeleteIt moved me the first time I saw this, but I can't remember where. It is such a perfect capture of motherhood and the love for the baby. All the details speak to the wonderful atmosphere of being alone with the little one. Thanks for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteXO
WWW
Thanks for commenting, my friend
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