Another really nice day and I spent part of it out taking care of business: banking, shopping, and other irrelevancies needed to sustain life. Throughout the day I reflected on my preceding post and wondered if I hadn't been too hard on my Toronto friends. Was this really so much worse than previous visits? Perhaps the behaviour was no worse but Julie was worse and seeing that, I reacted more intensely.
Julie's memory is going as is her connection to the reality of today. It is getting harder to have a conversation with her and she gets confused a lot. It pains me to see it. Before too long her kids will begin notice that she is no longer fully present. Then the opportunity to really communicate will be gone. It is slipping away for me too. Though we have the past to connect us, we have very little shared present time. I'm frustrated by our conversations now because Julie is faking it more and more.
I want to shout at the family and cut through their complacency, "don't waste her time with your self centered nonsense. There isn't much of it left". But I think they see it and are afraid.
I had the hope of showing her the Equinox photos, discussing the art and sharing my impressions. It became clear that she really couldn't see the photos properly and didn't recognize the "Grief" sculpture series. She talked about the earlier sculptures but couldn't see the connection to the new series. After years of bemoaning the loss of the original series, she didn't register any recognition of the new sculptures. I was so sad. We two, who had shared a studio for years, exhibited together, and exchanged our values and ideas, have lost that ability now. Julie had a gift for analysis and practical criticism like no other and I miss it. I miss Julie.
So maybe my reaction was more intense because I have reached my tipping point. I have to rethink my expectations and accept the realities of the here and now.
That doesn't mean I have to accept Jerzy's abuse. Nor do I need to be present at the family circus. In future visits I must protect myself from disappointment and avoid stress. I can't come home sick and suffering from hives again.
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About Me
- kingmisha
- I'm bigger than a pile of breadboxes, but smaller than a Sherman tank. I'm overeducated, underpaid but very content with my life. I have loved infrequently but intensely. I dated a poet, divorced a Dean, had an affair with a jazz pianist, was engaged to a diplomat, and widowed by my child's father. The men in my life were all very special. Not all grand passions but much loved in their time: Leonard Cohen, Alfred Pinsky, Billy Horn, Wendell Goodin, and Elliot Hirschman. Thanks for the memories... I'm a lapsed artist which doesn't really trouble me because I'm a very successful parent. I lacked the requisite conceit to persevere as an artist. I just couldn't make myself believe that my art came before my child. The world really doesn't need another sculptor (even a good one), but it does need another good human being. It can use all the good human beings we can turn out. I present Mambolica as my evidence so judge for yourselves.