No one can prepare you for parenthood, you dive in at that moment and time in your life and hope you make it out with a smile on your face. I guarantee being a parent is the most difficult and challenging endevours in one's life, however, I have no doubt it is the most fulfilling. As an artist I am influenced and inspired by my everyday environment, I chose to create an art series documenting this special time with my family. In the artworks I aim to highlight, and capture the beauty, (from what I've experienced) as the richest time in my life. This series aims to speak about my triumphs and struggles as a mother. It deals with the ideals of motherhood, its morals, and its priorities. It is an exciting series that revels in a mother’s time with her child.
I would like to begin by establishing that I rarely like to bring up or to discuss the subject matter of my mother’s death in 2014, being that it is emotionally painful. I lost my mother, my beacon of wisdom and love, my sense of home. After a year and a half fight with lung cancer, my mom passed, I was six months pregnant at the time with my first child. I found her death to be beyond life shattering. Devastatingly I lost my “home”, the constant in my life. Though her values and way of life are entrenched in my every day, I still long for the sound of her voice and cling to the dream of her meeting her grandchildren. The idea of her meeting them for even a minute to see how amazing, beautiful, and smart they are, those thoughts are the most heart wrenching for me. There is no doubt in my mind that my son Gus and my husband Carly saved my sanity in those trying months following her death. Gus was my focus, and my husband was my strength. I learned in that trying time that a mother’s love for a child is an insurmountable love, and I now know how much my mother loved me. That experience and shock of death awoke something in me. I had a new thirst for life. Nothing scared me anymore. Nothing could be more painful than losing my mother. You will not get the things you want in life by not taking a chance in the first place.
“Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.
Almost everything--all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure--these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important.
Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”
Since the passing of my mother, my life has kicked into high gear. Time is our most precious commodity and should be spent on the things that matter most: Family, love and one’s passion. Moments are fickle and fleeting; I have endeavoured to make the most of mine. What is it that gets you out of bed in the morning? For me, it’s my family and my hunger for art-making, bringing both together makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. Time with our children slips through our hands like sand, and I refuse to lock myself away in my studio alone and not include my children in my passion for the arts. I want to show them the beauty of mark making, dancing, and expressing yourself with a brush stroke or a splash of paint. I want to teach them to not be afraid to make a mess, “YES Gus you can step in the paint”! My 2-year-old son Gus and spent the most amazing hours creating this series; I hope the unique artwork can even scratch the surface of the significance of our time together.
The paintings consist of a series of portraits, the subjects for the portraits are mothers and fathers. The intention of portraits is to project strength, integrity, love and the struggle of what it takes to be a parent. This series is a celebration of motherhood, parenthood and the sheer innocence of being playful. The mindset and mood of the show as a whole will reflect that of the incorruptible freedom of a child’s open cognizance.
Photos by the lovely Taylor Wilson: http://www.tayloroliviaphotography.com