The lawyers rang me yesterday asking if I could come in and check the final lot of paperwork regarding my Mother’s estate. If everything is in order the lawyers will draw up the cheques and begin the distribution of assets.
I haven’t been able to stop crying since I received that call. Not non stop wailing and gnashing of teeth but an intermittant flow of tears. I am gripped with a horrible lethargy and my grief is raw and painful again.
I cooked up a pot of chilli for tea last night but couldn’t be bothered making the sides that go with it.I am supposed to go into the studio today but I can’t be arsed. The house is a mess, the garden needs some serious work and I just can’t be bothered.
‘The Spouse’ is nagging me to organise ‘S’ to get up here and prepare the foundations for my studio. I just want to scream at him, “to shut the fuck up, it is my stupid fucking studio and I will organise it later, tomorrow, next year.”
I forget that ‘The Spouse’ is also missing Mum and that he masks his pain by being busy and that his silence isn’t indifference it is just that men don’t talk, they retreat into their fucking caves.
I don’t want to think about my studio this week. The thought of building my studio was what kept me going all through the sale of Mum’s house. Remembering how insistent Mum was that I build my studio gave me comfort and kept me going. But now that the means to build my studio will soon be deposited in my bank account has made me terribly,terribly sad.
All I really want is my mum and it just isn’t fair. I listen to people whinging about their mothers and I want to tell them to stop it, to grow up, to shut up about their mothers but I just walk away instead.
So what do I do when I feel like shit and I need inspiration and motivation and when the pain of wanting my mother threatens to suffocate me?
I come here and write to you my dear internetz.
I saw this next line as part of a comment on a friends blog.
When everyone in my RL world is judging me too harshly, I come to the web for supportive communication
And that is what I am doing here this morning, I am seeking supportive communication.I am seeking motivation.I am looking for solace.
A friend has asked me to make her a holy water fount and I have made a series of test pieces, small ceramic thoughts and I am enjoying the process of fulfilling that commission, as part of her commission was to think about,
…all the hurts that you’d like to drown and all the newness that you look forward to.
So today, as I am feeling mournful for all that has gone before me and needing to shake the reluctance to prepare myself to take the next step in my life, I am going to have a giveaway.
I want to make you something.
I have had three giveaways now and they really cheer me, up as well as giving me a creative boot up the bum. Making the work inspires more work and I certainly could use some inspiration right now.
So now it is up to you my dear internetz. Inspire me. Leave me a comment telling me about something that you would like me to make for you. Tell me what you would like me to be thinking of as I make it. Bearing in mind that it will have to be posted to you so it cant really be a seven foot tall sculpture of the Goddess, or a 42 piece dinner setting for seven.
You can enter as many times as you like and comments will be open until this coming Monday, the 22nd of March, Australian time. This competition is open to everyone and anyone. It doesn’t matter whether you are a regular commenter, a lurker, a friend, a relative, a colleague or just a stray blog hopper that has landed here looking for zombie frogs.
I will use the random number thingy to pick a winner but be prepared. Petra’s platter took me nearly 12 months to send off. Jientjes cups took about 9 months and Liz is still waiting for her bowl.
So what are you waiting for, knock yourselves out, comment away.
Now that I have got that out of my system, I am going to turn the music up loudly and clean up this mess.(maybe)
Comments are now closed and I will announce the winner shortly.
Comments on this entry are closed.
Grief is such a crazy mixed up mess of emotions.. and just when you think you have a handle on it and have found a way top cope it sneaks up and muddles you all over again…. thinking of you all at this tough time!
And ok so this might not be postable…. but I have a hankering for a large dish/plate. Broad and flat towards the edges but a little deep in the middle so I can plant a plate garden or succulents and make an awesome table centre piece. Mind you I’d need an awesome table to put it on, and the space for that awesome table…. which is not eventuating quite yet (maybe when we renovate)… but that is what popped into my mind when you asked!
I’m so sad for you my friend.
I understand that grief so well, although I just cannot imagine (I don’t want to either) being without my Mum.
To not have her there, to not be able to talk with her, bounce things off her…
I wish you strength and peace.
My eyes have been leaking for the last few days too but for other reasons.
I love your ceramics.
The little vase you sent for me has pride of place on my bedside table.
I know it’s selfish but I won’t let anyone else use it.
At the moment it’s holding all the white feathers that Ivy and Noah brought to me at Christmas.
It seems appropriate somehow.
I would love something blue with butterflies, if I won your giveaway. Something beautiful as I wander into my April grief.
Dear sweet Kimmekins – I can call ya that right? 😉 Anytime you pour your heart out on here – I cry my eyes out millions of miles away sharing in motherless grief with you. Things here have been hell on earth and just when I think I can.not.possibly.shed.one.more.flippin’.tear….I spill gallons.
If I were to win: pft, anything would be perfect as I love all of your stuff. But I will make you a deal: email me your address and I will send you a good old fashioned American care package of our chocolates. Do you have our stuff there? Hershey bars and peanut butter cups and the like?
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh grief…….what an odd emotion it is……..it follows no rhyme or reason….just plods along,hitting you when you expect it least.
I still miss my mum and she has been gone for 26 yrs now………….so I know how you feel…………..massive hugs.
I would love a little statue of the goddess either in purple or green.
more hugs
You know I spent the past weekend with my friend in California who just lost her mom in November and I was surprised at how seriously pissed off she was — at everything! So that’s just to say you are in good company. I think it’s good that you can express that. I think I was afraid to when I lost my mom. Grief is such a powerful and bizarre animal, always changing shape and intensity. Hugs to you from across the miles.
You know what I would love, love, love? A little bowl. I love little ceramic bowls. Something that you made that represents Tasmania, whatever that means to you, so that every time I looked at it I would think of you and Veronica. I would even come out there and pick it up myself (2011) and bring you some good chocolate to boot! xoxo
This is the hardest part of the Internet. You seem like you’re right next door, where I could just walk on over and grab you up and give you a big hug when you really needed one. But you are on the other side of the world and I can’t get there from here – not walkin’, anyway.
But I would if I could. Know that.
And make you strong tea with honey and sweet biscuits and we could talk for hours until you got it all out.
But that’s the hard part of the Internet.
Dear Kim,
Today I got to work and found a mailed box of lovely, dark pieces of chocolate from two co-workers in another state, who had heard I’d had a bad few weeks. The surprise was so sweet that I wish I could share it with you. Be as grumpy as you need to be for a while. It’s understandable that you can’t be happy right now about building a new studio if it’s tied in with losing your Mum. But I hope you’ll someday feel her spirit there, inspiring your work and comforting your heart while you create your sculptures.
If I won I would love for you to make me an ocean-colored flounder, a cool fish. (Happy to be one of your dear internetz.)
I also wish you strength and peace. I don’t know how I would cope.
I’ve been thinking about something like a shallow bowl to place three candles in for prayer. Something suggestive of femininity, nurturing, and especially light and life out of darkness.
I think I would like a picture frame for a 5x7inch photo – with a heart shaped opening.
I know what you mean about listening to others go on about their Mums… its been almost 20 years and I still get irritated by that, so I too walk away. Big hugs. Allow yourself a bit to grieve, you’ll know when its time for the studio. And I am taking myself out of the contest ’cause I already won. And I want to come pick up the bowl in person, so I can wait a bit, no worries there. More big hugs.
Oh Kimmy, my heart aches for you. I haven’t met you IRL but I know you. I just do. Love and hugs to you my friend.xoxoxoxoxo
Dearest Kim, I am pleased & honoured that you have called me a friend!!
If I win the giveaway, I would like a dinosaur egg…or anything that strikes you as appropriate, really.
Love and hugs. Snap to Liz–allow yourself time to grieve, and let the right time come for the studio. It will. The spousal creature is just trying, in his own fumbling way, to say that he loves you and wants you to feel better. I know you know this, but you still feel like screaming. Grief is a very funny (not haha) creature.
More hugs. And then more still.
Cry as much and for as long as you need Kim. Like so many of your readers I too wish we lived closer so I could pop over and give you the occasional hug, offer a tissue and maybe share something to eat and drink in companionable quiet.
If I turn out to be the lucky winner I’d like a soup bowl I could wrap both hands around to warm me up during the winter months. One that matches the cups/mugs you are going to make for me.
Oh love, I can’t imagine what it must be like. I wish I could be there. All I can do is send you virtual hugs and chocs and let you know that I’m thinking of you.
I don’t think I’ve ever commented before, but I’ll give it a go.
You can make whatever you like should I win, but smaller is better as I’ll be moving overseas in a year or two and will definitely want small things to take with me.
And while you’re making whatever it is you make, whether I’m the winner or not, you can try thinking that no life ever truly ends as long as there is at least on person around to remember and honor it.
Play Pachelebel’s Kanon in D. The repetitive variations on the theme are simply the most calming and soothing things I can imagine. There’s rock versions, piano versions, orchestral … pick one. It doesn’t matter. Let the music take you to that place to says “everything is alright”.
Then play Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. Once a pianist, I love this swoony, romantic tune, that makes me feel happy. Think of all the love and joy that your own life as a mother brings and that you see in your daughter as she raises her child. A child well raised carries the lesson from mother to child and in those, your own mother goes on. If I should win, would make something for my artist GOFA? Perhaps a mug with a handle to accommodate his large hand?
Big hugs.
So sorry to hear about all this grief you’re going through at the moment. It’s funny – where I’ve least expected to find some form of solace from my own recent personal issues and where I did actually get a lot of emotional support, has been via on the online community.
I hope you find some things that inspire you to new directions 🙂
Just hugs and love for you all from the other side of the world.
I’d absolutely love a special bendy hands mug, with a handle on each side a bit like a toddlers cup, but for grown ups. Well, sort of grown ups!
Thinking of you, BG Xx
The words that have helped me in the last few months are: Denis Waitley: Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace and gratitude.
Maybe a bowl to celebrate the fullness of your life, even without your mum? Or how full your life is now and give thanks to her for her role in making it so? So make go and something and inscribe the words “love, grace & gratitude” on it. Meditate on the words as you make it.
Then go listen to the Beatles “Let it Be”, Your grief is good and okay and normal. Don’t chase it away. But don’t let your grief obscure the love, grace and gratitude still surrounding you.
Sending you lots of love
Oh Kim, I can’t even imagine how I’d be feeling in your shoes. I think it would be a combination of numbness and hurt. So much hurt.
I would love a dragon egg… with thistle designs on it… you know me and my thistles. 😉
Sending you huge hugs and all my love. I wish I could be there to give you (and Veronica!) them for real.
Love ya xxx
Hi Kim — I came to your site from the bloggies awhile back. I read your post today and wanted to give you a few words of encouragement. I lost my Mom in 2004 and I think of her every day and still miss her so dearly. But the grief changes and acceptance comes. It will get better, even though it may not seem so right now, you’ll see that the passage of time and the stages of grief work their way to heal you. It might help to accept your feelings right now as they come, it’s part of this process of grieving. Your words reminded me how life experiences are universal, no one is spared this pain.
On the ceramic side of things, a bird would be lovely, any kind of bird, but preferably one that’s unique to Tasmania and I would like you to be thinking as you make it that this bird will be treasured by this internet friend from across the way. Hugs and love from NYC.
I’d love a dragon – one of the ones that hatch out of your eggs. And while you are bringing him into existence, think about all the clay animals that you can teach Amy and Isaac to make in your wonderful new studio. My mum taught me how to make clay animals when I was young, and it’s a skill that I still use, though in play dough these days. I miss her whenever I make mice for my girls, but am immensely grateful for the time she took to share her love of creating things.
Oh mate, I know exactly how you feel. I lost my beautiful Nan on Monday. She was my “mum”, raised me from 9 and the emptiness I feel is unexpressable. To make things worse I received a copy of her will yesterday and she has left me an equal share of her house along with her children, a decision that will not please everyone, and a handwritten letter explaining to everyone why she did so. The tears wont stop. This amazing woman just keeps giving to me from beyond the grave. The family left me to organise everything, a burdon I was happy to take on as I know her and what she will want but I am dreading my final goodbye tomorrow. She was amazing Kimmy, she shaped me and my life and gave me comfort and love when none was available to me. How do you say goodbye to someone who is such an integral part of your life for so long. The emptiness and feeling of being alone is so hard. I spent last night baking a batch of her famous kiss biscuits and I know she guided me along the way..havent baked them since I was a kid. I am serving them at the wake… you sculpt…I cook. Thinking of you my love. My nan used to always say “sleep on it…It will better tomorrow”….take it day by day and dont rush your grief xx
A good friend just rang and simply sobbed down the phone. A week or so ago I promised that if she needed to cry or scream hysterically I would just answer the phone and she could let rip. Her mother is in the last stages of terminal cancer. When she had finished sobbing she whispered thank you and put the receiver down.
When you are ready the studio will burst into life. I would like you to make a special piece that your mother would have liked, to take pride of place when finished. This piece will be vibrant and wise with a quirky touch of humour combined. The rest is up to you.
xoxoxox
(((hugs)))
I’m sorry your feeling down. Seek solace in your chosen medium.
The only thing I can think of is I would like you to smile, and whisper to the moon.
I’ll be watching for it. 😉
I have something for YOU actually.
http://lafindumondfarm.blogspot.com/2010/03/spent.html
Hugs hugs and double hugs
In my experience you will not feel anywhere near normal for a minimum of a year – and maybe more – give yourself time and don’t be hard on either you or spouse
I’m sorry I haven’t been sround for a while – there is no doubt uni is eating into blog reading – and commenting
Hmm – I think I fell in love with a beautiful vase you made about 6 months ago – but truly -all your stuff has been wonderful – but a vase, for holding flowers and leaves – peaceful and calming……
hugs again!
Hi Kim,
A massive hug from me. good luck and take care always. do your best
I wish I could come and hug you through this. There’s bound to be more than a few memories that will pop up and bring on the tears, all I can say is the healing takes time, and the time is different for everyone. There’s no magical cut off point, for instance “in 7 months and 23 days you will be healed of this pain”. That’s just ridiculous. Why do people say things like “but it’s been months now, get over it”. Your Mum is in your heart forever and remembering things you did together will always bring a tear or three.
If I’m selected for the giveaway I’d love to have a shallow glazed dish, about 15-20cm by 8-10cm, oval shaped in the colours you know I like best, to sit on the shelf by my front door so I can drop my keys into it as I arrive home each day.
gosh – how does anyone follow all that? well anyway kim – missed your presence in the studio and i hope you are feeling like stepping out again. grief, i find, nevers leaves, it just nestled into the folds and dark spaces where you can visit it in quiet moments and feel its sense of belonging. because it does belong, forever.
Kim, I am moved and amazed (again) at all the beautiful responses and messages of support that you’ve had. I hope they help. Thinking of you on this warm and lovely night.
Ah, grief.
It’s a powerful motivator in itself, if we’re talking about motivation to write poignantly.
Agreed with Lou. It’s too bad we can’t just go grab tea or coffee. Yet, the netz are amazing because I sort of feel like I _know_ you, even though you’re on the other side of the world.
A letter would be marvelous. I’d even return one back to you. With different words and all. 🙂
Kim,
Please, please try not to be sad. I think it would honour your Mum to rejoice in this VERY LAST GIFT she can give you. Please honour her wishes and allow yourself to feel great joy at this little dream come true. I think you should do a series preparing for this new studio. Like a thank-you note to your Mum. Think of what her fave flower or tree or pattern would be and create a work that will carry a bit of her essence to the public that will see it. 🙂
Oh Kim. Grief is such an all encompassing state. The waves, the reminders, the earth-stopping unfairness of it.
I have no words, as my own fear of losing my Mum clutches at my throat and prevents clarity and sound.
(((((((((((((Big HUGS to you)))))))))))))
I so love your work… I am so in awe of your creativity and your talent. And I think anything made by you, for me, would hold a very special place in my world. xoxox
I understand from your most recent post that you would like some inspiration for your next giveaway. Which means that my comment (above) was about as useful as a smack in the eye.
Hmmm… I adore Buddha’s. The belly-smoothness. The symbolism of peace and omnipotence. Yep, a Buddha from you would completely make my collection. xoxoxo
I agree with Fe. A Buddha would be awesome. Or light blue birdie plates. Not sure what that means, but I imagine old, faded plates, well worn and used for many family dinners. Nothing fancy. Strictly organic, with thoughts of little puffy birds as they flit carefree across the yard; stopping to peck at a bug for a second or two before flitting to the next social gathering of feathered friends.
Chatting, hopping, flitting, swooshing. Joyful peeps and squeaks as they dance across old, silvered fence rails.
So this is to get you going again, because it is what lifts you.
Kim, your mum hasn’t really left you (though it feels like it). She’s just waiting for you in another place – and yet around you now. You say you see whispers of ghosts. I’ve had one standing right beside my bed, been contacted by my ‘husbands’ father 3 weeks AFTER he died, and even remember being in spirit myself following my death in a past life. I had my husband walk out on my teenage son and I for another woman just before Christmas. We’d been together 25 years and it was a massive shock and betrayal. Almost 5 months into my ‘coming to terms’, and as I prepare to try to go back to work for the first time in 20 years (with many personal obstacles), I wanted to put in my request for your freebie competition for a statue of a female figure (not too thin) arising out of the red and black ashes sort of, like a phoenix – something I could look at and get inspired by in moving on to the next stage of this life. The mood to work with – ‘woman overcoming’, ‘woman growing’, ‘woman undefeated’. It’s who I want to be. And who you are too.
Time, grief, time, grief, time, grief. A real tick tock.
What ever you could make, (and I do like the idea of a small photo frame, a deep deep blue) I think you should make two.
Keep one, and the other goes to whoever. Extra special.
I’m so glad you’ve found a way to handle your grief through creativity. This way, something beautiful is going to come from this, just let your emotions flow. Big hug xxx
Hi Kim. I don’t know what to say about your mom, except that she seems to have been truly exceptional. I don’t think you can expect grief to follow any pattern, but just let it ebb and flow around and over you, Hugs.
If I won your contest I would like a latte mug, with no handle, but lots of texture. It could be colourful, but it might be even better all white. Something I could wrap my hands around, and I could close my eyes and feel the warmth (from the coffee) and experience the beauty of the mug with my fingertips.