Lovely blues over at CSI this week!
Here is what I did this morning:
Scheme : All Colours
Evidence : Paint, Distressing, Flowers, Metal
Testimony : Document an old memory with a hint of 'feeling blue'
Journaling (stuck on the back of the LO, as I knew it was going to be an essay!):
In the early hours of the morning of 3 February 2007, our telephone rang. It woke me from a dream that Oupa had died; so I wasn’t surprised when I was told that Oupa had died about 30 minutes earlier. Although he wasn’t sick, he had very recently been fitted with a pace maker and his prostate cancer had also recently returned; he was becoming frail. So the news was a shock.
I went straight to sleep, but woke with a jolt the next morning; wondering whether the phone-call and the dream were one and the same. I knew they weren’t; I knew I was in denial. I waited to fall to pieces.
This photograph was taken sometime in 1979 or 1980. Oupa was the best. He was hands on. He was always there for ALL of us. He made us wonderful toys. He taught us so much during the school holidays when we stayed with them. He nurtured my creative side – teaching me calligraphy, water colour painting and sketching. I remember being petrified of trying to work with oils – and he really pushed me to try. Sadly, I never got to try oil painting whilst he was still alive.
All his art paraphernalia has been passed on to me. The paints are all hard, the brushes disintegrated; but I will hang on to them and cherish them. Amongst the books and suitcases is one very, very old wooden artist’s suitcase which had been passed down to Oupa by my maternal Great-Grandfather. This is filled not only with brushes and hard crusty paint, but also with Oupa’s sketches and doodles. I’ve only been through the contents twice since Oupa’s passing... It just hurts too much.
I don’t think that we ever get over the passing of someone close to us. There are days when I miss him fiercely and I do still find myself welling up and aching for him.
The memory of the announcement of his death, the days after and the funeral are still very, very vivid to me. I remember thinking, long before he died, how I would surely need to be institutionalised or doped up when I heard that he’d died, but I was surprisingly ‘calm’. Broken, but calm.
On the day of his funeral, I had to take 6 (natural) tranquilisers to numb myself completely. It was an open casket, but I chose not to say goodbye that way – choosing to rather remember him alive and smiling and chatting and joking and laughing. I do not regret this decision, as I thought I might. I made a small bouquet of lavender from my garden and asked my sister-in-law to place it inside the coffin, which she did for me.
I still well up and HURT when I think of all this. It is still a very real pain for me.
I think that with death, there often comes regret. The two biggest regrets for me, is that he never got to see my new-found art – scrapbooking. I KNOW that he would have LOVED it and would have provided such valued input and critique.
The second regret is that he never got to meet my Isabella. Too painful to talk about right now.
I don’t know where he is now. No one ever really knows what happens after death. I do feel his presence from time to time. Mom has a Yesterday Today Tomorrow bush in her garden which she got from him and it seems to bloom when she’s having a difficult time in life; showing us that he is around.
I love him. I love him completely and I do wish he was still with us. As I said, we never get over death. Not really. Something, at any time, can trigger a memory and the pain can resurface.
I used a mist on the background and then I thinned down some white acrylic paint for the masking. I thinned it down coz I wanted some of the colour from the mist to still show through. Then I outlined the detail of the mask.
The rest is pretty straightforward - layering up of flowers and the photograph, the butterfly and the doily. The photo mat has been distressed.
Sorry about the brief info and lack of more pics - am a bit grumpy after having a lengthy, painful dentist visit yesterday morning. Nine shots in the mouth later and my jaw muscles are still achey! Oh woe is me! Boo Hoo!!!