This week has been hard, with the lead up to my Mum’s birthday and Isaac’s diagnosis of autism combining to make me maudlin and teary.
My research project for my drawing class is causing me some angst as well. Not much. But enough to contribute to this weeks tears.
I am researching myself. As a visual artist ultimately all my work comes from within myself. I chose myself as my subject because I wanted to examine why I do the things that I do. Why I am drawn to certain things and most importantly why I am happy to just skim over the surface and not really delve too deeply into anything that might require a bit of emotional effort.
Part of the research project is to collect historical data on the subject. Some of my historical data is in a suitcase that I can not bring myself to open.
During the lead up to my mothers funeral, my brother had all our child hood photos in his possession. They were in a blue suitcase that mum had kept in her wardrobe. After the funeral my brother returned the suitcase to mum’s house. I did not see or speak to my brother. All the photos of my father were gone,all the decent photos were missing, there were pages ripped out of albums, and the remaining jumble was just thrown back into the case. It was heart breaking.
I have been staring at this case for a fortnight now trying to bring myself to open it again but I don’t think I can.
I have been skimming over the surface of who I am, and what influences contributed to make me the person I am today. I examined my relationship with the nuns and my early childhood memories of going to church and being thwacked with a cane every time I fainted and I have discarded those influences as not that important.
I have been trying to pry apart my own mythology and to see where the lines of myth and truth blur and every single thing leads me back to my father.
My father was an alcoholic who passed his love of a drink on to me. I do not drink. I have finished drinking.
My father liked to promise us the world and then on the day of the promise we would sit for hours in the car outside the pub.
My father lit his cigarettes with a match and would ask me if I had ever seen a match burn twice and put the still hot match onto the soft flesh of my arm.
My father tried to teach me to swim by carrying me, screaming in terror, out into the waves and throwing me into the water.
All the kids in the neighbourhood were frightened of my father as he liked to dispense summary justice with his boots and his fists and all the local hoons drove quietly past our house.
My father was killed in a car accident when I was fourteen and I battled with his ghost for a very long time.
When his ghost is strong, I still think that I am stupid and useless and really what is the point of anything anyway?
But my spirit is stronger. My spirit was always stronger. My father couldn’t break me.
I would not give in. I refused to let him win.
As a grown woman, I will not be told what to do. I will ask no mans permission to do anything or be anyone I damn well like.
Maybe pressing publish here will be the first step in really picking some emotional scabs and going down some paths I don’t want to travel.
Either that, or I will just take photographs of churches and pretend it was the nun’s fault.
Now onto the feedback.
I would like to thank my daughter Veronica from SleeplessNights who re did my blog for me. I am pleased with how the blog looks. The reason Veronica had to do a whole new blog design was because I wanted to be able to reply to people directly in the comments section and with my previous template that just wasn’t possible.
Previously I had been replying by email, though not to every comment every time, and I was starting to feel a bit guilty if I didn’t reply personally.
I am after some feedback, how do you think the new comment system is working?
Do you actually get the email notification when I reply to your comment?
Do you like it this way or would you prefer a private reply via email?
Or do you simply not care?
Comments on this entry are closed.
We are sisters from another father….I was a raspberry and pack of chips in the car kid too…..alcoholic father who died when I was nine and I have to say it was a relief for my Mum and us kids…..Alcoholics are handy with their hands on women and children….Maybe it was just the way it was in our day mate? Food for thought xx
I was going to mention the raspberries and the Colvin chips but the line didnt fit. Hiya sis.
Kim, your father and mine. So similar and we too. I am still haunted by his rotten spirit to this day. He sits on my shoulder and tells me imam evil and ugly and stupid. I know all of those demons that keep coming back. You are beautiful and courageous and I am in awe of you. I wish I could say the same. I wish I could say that my father could not break me.
I was thinking of you Tiff as I was writing this post. I was remembering that post of yours that you wrote about your father. You are beautiful you know Tiff, your beauty shines clearly, straight from your soul. You have a lovely aura about you.I don’t think your dad broke you at all.
There is a radiance about you.
Tiff, you are gorgeous! Don’t think anything other than that. Your posts and hearing you at the conference leave me in no doubt about your soul.
I just want to reach through the internet and give you a big hug. That is a brave thing you’re doing, and is going to be hard and painful and there will be tears. You are very strong & a wonderful person & I really admire what you’re doing.
And yes last time I got the email when you posted a reply to my comment. I like that way of doing things, you put your comment on here & then it is also emailed to me. Is that what you meant?
Yes B, that is what I meant, thanks. and Thanks for you kindness.
Hi Kim,
Just wondering if you have worked on drawing the closed suitcase as a project? I can relate to the closed form – the pain is on the inside, the surface disguises it – sometimes you can be close looking at close up detail, other times it is a distant object in the room – small – and others large and dominating – seems to me that the suitcase is a very powerful metaphor for your pain. Just a thought x
Also I really like the simpler layout – always been a fan of not getting too much in the way of the information, which is what a website is all about. And I’m always looking for an excuse to use red – go Veronica! 🙂
L
I took a photo of the suitcase Linden. We are thinking along the same lines again 🙂 I like nice clean lines on a website or a blog as well. I wasn’t sure about the Red until I saw the photographs of PXIII against the red and then I knew It was the colour I wanted.
I hadn’t thought about drawing it though. I am still getting my head around the idea of drawing.
Be strong and know that a lot of people love you for the kind and supportive person you are. I will be sending you strong and loving thoughts and hope you feel them, always trust your heart to feel the love people give you. Ring me if you need to talk, my life has had some terrible times as well, not when I was growing up but later in life. Take care, Mandy Courtneyxxxx
The demons that follow us from our childhood are hard to deal with.
Mine are my grandmother and living in a house of utter chaos.
You have done so well to rise about it and let your true self shine through.
Feedback – love the new look, got an email reply when you replied to my comment the other day, love that as it means if I don’t remember to come back and look, I know what you said.
On the father issue, many of us seem to relate to aspects of that. I would hope that it is a generational thing, but I don’t think it really is at all. The shame is that it is still happening all over the world.
My father is still alive, I still have various issues with him, but I chose to be a survivor not a victim. I am thankful that I have lots of strong women in my background who obviously gave me that courage. Tragically my brother ended up being so broken by it that he no longer has any contact with anyone in our family. It doesn’t mean that from time to time that my father still pushes my buttons and a few blog posts of my own have dealt with that.
Kim, I wish I had found the time to get to know you better at ABC2011. There was something about your spirit, even in the moments we meet and talked, that struck a chord within me … maybe kindred spirits in some way.
Sorry this ended up being a ramble, but more strength to you, I believe you will find a way to open the suitcase and deal with what’s within. xxx
I am going to take the suitcase up to my studio. Mum’s presence is strong up there. I am going to do it over the Easter break and I will see what happens. I would have liked to have spent more time with you as well. the day was a whirlwind 🙂
I’m not sure if I’ve commented before but I have been reading for quite a while. Love the new design by the way.
It’s amazing how many people didn’t have the childhood of golden dreams and promise, they try to sell us on TV. I, like many others who have responded, are the product of an alcoholic, and a gambler, add is an emotionally absent/abusive mother and it was not a time I really like to think about. I know my childhood left me with a huge wall, both protective and destructive and a difficulty with connecting to others. Slowly I’m taking down those bricks, but it’s hard and scary work. For me, my children have been the key to tackling that which I just wanted to forget. I want them to have better and in that process I have learnt to forgive, though I’ll never forget. Mine are both alive but I keep them at arms length, physically and emotionally, I will never be that helpless child again. I really like Linden’s idea.
I like Lindens idea as well, she has a lovely way with words. I spent a long time fighting ghosts and it wasn’t until I stopped drinking in 2008 that I was able to put some of those ghosts to rest.
Powerful stuff, and a vivid picture just through your words. Be gentle taking off those scabs … it always hurts more when you pick them off before they’re ready.
I don’t comment much, so can’t offer too much feedback about the old way versus the new way, but I love the new look.
I think I will just lift a couple of them up and peer under them. As quickly as I dismissed the nuns I think I might have to spend a bit of time on them as well, as they are tied up the problems I had with self image as a teen and young adult.
I am never sure when or how often to reply to anything, so unless I make a shocking revelation on your blog or say something amazingly horrid or grand (we’re talking extreme) it’s perfectly ok not to feel the obligation to comment back. I don’t, often. Well… I take that back, though… sometimes if I get a troll I just delete the comment b/c I can’t make him say things about dressing up like a policeman or whatever else lol.
All that to say, whatever you do is kewl.
PS. I’m sure your dad had a lovely side to him before he was overwhelmed by alcoholism. I am very sorry he wasn’t able to show it to you. 🙁
I was Dad’s princess when he was sober 🙂 and you are one of my friends, of course I have to respond to you. You make me smile Mrs C.
I love the new blog and yes I get the e-mailed notifications from V and you. Have to then remember to check if they are ‘proper’ e-mails if I want to send off a reply to that though!
Re Isaac’s diagnosis – he is still Isaac, he just has a little label now that will enable V to access resources to help him be all that he can be 😉 This is a positive step.
Not sure what to say about the rest of your post. I’m of the opinion that everything that happens to us, good, bad or indifferent does impact on who we are and the way we live our lives but what’s done is done, it can’t be changed. If there are traits within ourselves we do not like then those we can change – you know this having chosen not to take the chance of following your father into alcoholism – what happened in the past happened, no matter what you do now it will not change. I feel that obsessive delving into and analysing the past will mostly foster bitterness and waste precious hours that would be better spent enjoying the present and looking forward to the future. But that’s me and how I live my life.
xox
It looks lovely. The Art speaks to strength and courage – things you have in spades. Well done you on picking at your scabs. Well done Von on an excellent page.
Love the new layout nd yes, I get the emails when you reply. Now if I can only work out how to do the same on the blogs here.
As for those painful memories … I like Linden’s idea of drawing the closed case. Perhaps you could take that a step further and do a series showing it being opened and what you remember is inside. It may not be something you can do without seeing it for real … I know I couldn’t … just an thought.
Another thought … perhaps the way your brother left things is a reflection of the turmoil he felt as well. It showed little concern for how you may have wanted to deal with things, but in our grief we often do things that area very self-centred, to deal with our own pain, without considering others. Perhaps drawing your brother, from a photo, could be a way to address some of the issues from a tangent, until you’re ready to open the case. Hugs from us both. X
Hi Kim,
After reading your post, I thought that I would leave you with some thoughts from a fellow artist, and one who also lives with ghosts.
From emotion comes great art, from great art come self-destruction. Is it worth it? Sometimes yes, that is your call!
My brother let the ghosts of family past get the better of him, he committed suicide. I don’t recommend this as a solution.
Open the suit case, exercise the ghosts, give the world ‘the finger’ and create great art.
When the world kicks you in the guts, kick back, when you stop fighting, loving and creating you cease to be.
Give free reign to the sprits that be, conquer and create.
Cheers
Bakchos.
I was on a path of self destruction for a long time, my friend. I contemplated suicide long and hard as a thirteen year old girl and then again as a fifteen year old. It was only that Mum made me promise her faithfully that I wouldn’t try again that I stopped trying violent methods of self destruction and chose instead to try other subtler methods
I am comfortable in my skin now and I have laid my ghosts to rest. (most of them ) thank you for commenting Mark, you are a good man.
I am trying to live the philosophy of “I will not let my alcoholic, violent, mentally ill, abusive father have any impact on my life, not anymore”.
It goes like this – I will not be afraid of having an occasional glass of wine because I will turn into an alcoholic; I will not be afraid to be emotionally fragile because I might go crazy, etc, etc. I am in charge. I won’t let him continue to control me through a fear of what I might become.
I have to remind myself every day that even if I am his daughter, that does not dictate my destiny. I feel like it’s so important that I consciously tackle this now. Maybe all of the things my father lived as a child ate away at him until he couldn’t contain them anymore? Maybe that turned him into a monster?
Despite the fact that I want to keep my childhood buried deeply and forget it – actually I HAVE forgotten most of it – I am trying to make a conscious effort to deal with it instead of push it aside. I have to so that I can really be free of him.
So, pick away, I think it’s the way to true freedom.
RE comments: I love hearing back from you, and have been but don’t pressure yourself too much.
xxx
I’m very new to your blog, still reading back in the archives, but I wanted to respond anyway. Re feedback, I LOVE your comment feature snd yes, I have been getting follow up emails. I wish I could have the same feature where I could comment directly to the person, so I think your system is great. That said, never feel obliged to reply – that’s when this all ceases to be any kind of fun.
As for your dilemma, I don’t know what I can add to the wisdom already expressed. I’m probably not a good person to ask as my life has resembled a train wreck in the past and I laugh now at how many times I have prayed for a sign to let me know if I was on the right path or for help in making a decision and got zilch. Maybe I watched too many episodes of Mission Impossible as a kid, but part of me wants those instructions that spell it all out clearly.
But what I do know is that we all deal with those ghosts from the past in a different way. Who can say which is right or wrong? My father was not an alcoholic, but he was a very violent man and I know that his shadow has loomed over my life and the lives of my 9 siblings. Some of my siblings medicated the pain with drugs and alcohol, others by emulating him, others by becoming withdrawn, others by denying his existence or by striving for perfection. Me? I just donned an outer disguise of efficiency and competence to mask the awful realisation that I wasn’t deserving of his love. And I’ve started to write a private diary – that is very cathartic. I’m a person who loves words, so perhaps this is the best medium for me. Perhaps drawing may be your form of therapy – I hope so.
Thanks Marie, I don’t know about drawing being therapeutic but I know that I am looking forward to using the skills I learn in my drawing class in my current and future work. I too love words and I am working out my thoughts here on my blog as well as in the comments.
As always your words make me gasp, and smile, and think… I can only imagine how delving into yourself must be making you gasp and smile and think…
LOVE the new look 🙂
Thanks Kate, you make me smile.
I’m new to your blog, I disovered it only recently, and I hadn’t realised you were Veronica’s mother. I’m sorry for your loss(I know it has been some time, but these reminders serve sometimes to sharpen the pain) as I am hers. It sounds like your mother was a wonderful woman, raising another wonderful woman.
I like this setup with the emails to responses. Veronica’s blog was the first time I had seen it, and I found it great – it’s nice to know that an author has read your response and considered it.
I’ll be back. 🙂
Yes it is nice to know that your comment has been appreciated. I often respond by email as well. It depends on how busy I am, as well as how comfortable I am responding in public. Nice to meet you Melissa.
I have no idea how you feel, Kim, I have sympathy but I an’t even imagine empathy. I have issues with my mum, but in such a different way that it would never be the same. Nothing will ever change the past, but how it shapes you and allows you to make the choices to become the person you want to become can be amazing. Funny, it was reading a fictionalized autobiographical account of Mary MacKillop that made me think similarly (those nuns! 🙂 )
Love the way the blog looks, I love the contrast of the white on red, it helps focus you more. And I like getting the email re replies, otherwise I forget to check back 🙂
I will still sometimes answer your comments via private email as well, depending on time.
I am over it Amanda, really It is just that I am revisiting parts of my childhood for the research project and those parts I am poking at are painful. I need to know why I am who I am, and writing the painful bits out on the blog makes them stop hurting so much. (when I choose to look at them that is) I have developed a very good, “I will deal with that later” coping mechanism and then I just forget about stuff. There are positives to being such a daydreamer it means I just wander off in my mind….
I actually meant that I love getting the email that there is a comment, I don’t mind which way a comment comes, but so many blogs (mostly blogger, I think, you have to subscribe to the comments, and I never remember to do that. Can’t remember if I had to tick a box to get the email notification that you had commented, and as I get it twice (because I do usually remember to tick the box for all replies to be emailed, as you never know when another comment might stir thoughts/discussion) I don’t think so.
I’m not a willing poker of the past, and mostly of my issues have tended to come from my adult years anyway. I’ve mostly chosen to let things go through to the keeper and bury my head in the sand. I know one day I will have to deal with things, but I’m waiting for that time when there are no repercussions. Except the pain. It can’t be avoided for forever.
Love the new look and layout. Love the comment as you go instead of an email but now I am going to miss seeing you in my inbox.
When we moved home to take care of my Mom, we were there a month before she passed. And during that time between taking care of her and my kids and ignoring myself: I scanned every picture in her house and made cds for everyone in the family. I had a scanner that would also scan negatives into pictures and I scanned those too. My Mom had a ton of negatives from my Gran and some I took to the store to process. Because it was so old it took weeks and weeks for them to develop – and it was so heartbreaking to open those pictures up in the store. So crisp of my Mum when she was just a girl…..anyways – When my Dad up and left their home he left a ton of stuff behind for the folks he hired to clean up his house to throw away. Like a picture of my Great, great grandmother. Thank God I scanned all that stuff because I had the foresight to know in the end it didn’t matter to him. *hugs*
I get your blog via an email, which has been great except the print is very tiny…and I am at 57 old woman hard to see…lol..
new blog I have just found how to find from the email i get…it looks really great. I am happy to get any answer from you.
Just a note about the emotional stuff…I had fairly good parents…mom was a bit loud and they spanked me pretty damn hard with whatever was handy, but nothing like the evil your father battled and took out on you. Please do not think me disrespectful to that horror, but just to let you know, even with a “normal” upbringing, the voices in my head talk about how worthless I am way to often…I KNOW how smart, lucky, kind, skilled etc I am, but often I do not FEEL that way….it is such a fight in life to feel really good about yourself without going to far either way…it seems it is just hard to stand up against all the negative stuff in the world and stay firm in your belief of your own goodness and of the right YOU, each of us, have to be really really just fine with who we are just at this minute…to really know and FEEL that we are OK just as we are this minute, even as we work to be better versions of ourself.
So I guess my point is—you are not alone….you ARE OK just like you are…and lots of us also feel crazy/wierd/alone/like we are fighting upstream/ all while we work to FEEL OK and ENOUGH just like we are.
Love your works and your words…I too am trying to learn to draw, and it is going to darn slowly….need more practice time…. hugs from Florida, USA
I will see if there is any way to change the format off the email but I suspect it is a feedburner issue. I will ask Veronica, she is my technical guru. If you are on facebook you can clock the icon on the right hand side of the blog and “like” my facebook page then you will have access to the blog that way.
Thank you for your lovely comment. It means a lot to me. The times that you have also responded to me via email also are one of the reasons I keep on writing.
Aaahhh, fathers, they have a way of breaking us. Or not quite, but they certainly have a lot to answer for. If I hadn’t carried the programming from my family of origin along inside me for all those years, I probably woudn’t have ended up in the situation I did. I feel like I broke a very long time ago and I’m not really sure how it happened, but I know I haven’t yet healed.
Well done on starting the process, Kim. It is hard, but it will help. And you will probably keep coming back to it again and again and rehashing the same things over and over, until you are able to let it go.
I love the new look of your blog. I love that background colour and the header photo…
Take care on your journey into the past…
Part of the function of this blog Dorothy is to de-clutter my mind. In the lead up to Mum’s birthday I was feeling very fragile and what better time to pick at some scabs than when you are already vulnerable eh. The process of writing out this blog post has allowed me to move on with a clearer mind.
We had a tutorial today focusing on our research projects and I “think” I have sorted out the direction I want to go.
If I feel the need to poke at the sore spots I will come here to the blog and work it out publicly as I find this is the quickest way for me to get my head straight. As a friend keeps on telling me, visual artists do their thinking in public.
You are so very much stronger than your father ever was. You are an amazing woman and I am proud to call you friend.
I like what Linden above me said about the suitcase.
I like your new layout too, red is a favourite colour of mine, the sidebars you have here are about the same red as my bedroom furniture.
Yes, I did get the email replies to my comments…..
I understand my father a bit more River, now that I am raising a child who is so very similar to me. I can empathise with Dad’s frustrations and understand where he was coming from a bit better. He was quite nice when he was sober.
Unfortunately he was never sober as he would crack a tinnie at 6 am on the drive up to New Norfolk to do the bread run.
Be prepared because it may change you artistic style…I did something similar and stopped creating the same things I had been creating for about ten years. Now I do something completely different and even more meaningful to me.
Change is good Tanya. 🙂
i like the new blog. I like you more though 🙂 From when I first came across you (met you) I have felt such a warmth and strength from you. It is strange, when you learn something about someone and think “wow, I didn’t expect that she seems so strong and together”. I forget that people say that about me too. We wear many masks and I thank you for having the courage to remove yours for a little bit today 🙂 love and strength, Kelli
Thank you
This post gave me a twinge in my heart for you….what you went through..
I am so glad I met you…..you had this most amazing aura..a feeling of honesty and strength…..was a highlight for me..
I enjoyed meeting you as well 🙂
the new layout is lovely.
As for comments, I’ve always taken a line that not every comment requires response. I certainly don’t expect it from bloggers, unless I’ve asked a question (and then I don’t expect, but it’s nice to get one) and on my own blog, I tend to only reply when the spirit moves. In answer to specific questions, or if something particuarly thought provoking/moving/interesting seems to require it. Also, newbies, I tend to welcome with a response. It can be quite time consuming and though it’s nice to respond, I don’t honestly think it’s always necessary.
I think that you have captured my attitude to comments as well. I used to privately reply via email and While I enjoyed that and will still reply privately to some comments. I also was missing the ongoing conversation here in the comments section that everyone could be a part of.
Two many sisters under the skin. It was my mother who was the alcoholic. My father was just emotionally unavailable – probably understandable. He was a German Jew and lost most of his family in the war. It didn’t help his new family though.
And after his death my mother wallowed in drink. And it hurts to this day. And yes, I am thankful for some of the things they gave me, and I think I will go to my grave angry at other things.
Hugs across the miles.
I mean too many. Not two many. I know that. Put it down to dsylexia of the fingers and mind.
PS: I think the comments format works well.
I tend to do a Scarlett O”Hara and think, “I will deal with that tomorrow” and then I mostly just forget about things. It is easier now that I am not drinking as 90% of the time I would be okay but that 10% I would go to a dark place and not be very nice to be around at all.
K,
You’ll hear a lot of “I understand”, and likely they do … we all have different levels where we meet our ghosts.
When I say “I understand” … boy howdy!
The suicide attempts started at 13 as well. Sometimes ignorance allows for 2nd chances. If I were a cat I would have used up my 9 lives years ago. And the father; mine had no excuse, he was pure evil. I’m not going to get into all that, but not because I can’t; this just isn’t the place. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been down those roads of inner reflection and chasing off demons. It’s painful, but you know that. However, there is the other side of that coin; just acknowledge, don’t accept their failures as yours, and when those moments creep up that threaten to amputate your heart yet again, remember the happier times. Sounds curt, but some days that’s all that gets me past the loss of my brother and the shadows of the past.
I gave my father the power to destroy me, but not anymore. Nobody owns me anymore, and I don’t allow anyone to.
It’s been a number of years since I confronted his ghost (though he’s still alive as far as I know), and it’s only now that he’s not even a passing thought. I had those days of “Why did he …” – PLENTY of them. Sometimes people hurt people; be it due to drinking or just because they are a bastard. Take that part of him and lay him to rest. It’s OK to be angry, but don’t let it consume you. You didn’t ask for it, nor do you deserve what he did .. and he had NO EXCUSE. He’ll be answering for that, not you.
As for that suitcase; get rid of it, or own it – don’t let it own you. Your brother sounds like a schmuck for having done that – that’s on him. I know how you feel to have all those photos removed. As much as I no longer think of my father, I sometimes get angry that my mom destroyed all the photos. There is nothing from birth up to about age 6. It’s over, it’s done – I let it go. Holding on to the knowledge that it was taken from me doesn’t get me anywhere .. and life goes on.
I hope you find your peace, I sincerely do.
We don’t get to chose our relatives, but we get to choose which moments and memories to live with. .. and I truly believe that family is who we surround ourselves with, not just those biologically thrown at us.
Again I ramble – but your site is lovely. Your heart is lovely. Own yourself, but remember, your anything but alone.
Looking at photos can cause pain. Losing photos causes pain. This I know. There are days when grief wins. But not every day. Never feel you are alone. Ever.