Wednesday, August 03, 2011

the memorial signature

I've begun the second 12 page signature in my yet to be bound sketchbook. I don't know why the painting seems so faint and pale. Also, it is taking me a long time to work on this signature.

The first two pages were for Mom and Dad. Taking a cue from Leslie Avon Miller's Bone Prayer paintings (put bone prayer into the search this blog link on Leslie's blog) , I first wrote on each page in pencil. Most of the writing is covered over by paint.

This one came out really really sketchy. I think I will add Sarah's name to Flavia's and work more on the colors. I met Flavia around 1996 or 7. Fascinating woman from Brazil. Amazing knitter and in her later years sculptor. She was dying when I met her and I would drive her around to places she wanted to go and visit with her for tea. She was only 65 or so when she died. Sarah was much younger, in her 40's I think.

I have just begun this page and hope to be more abstract or designy rather than literal. You can see the penciled journal writing under the gold. I have been dreaming of some who have died, my ex-husband, Richard a man I lived with for 6 years who died at 48, and Miss Emily my cat who died last year.

I'm not being depressed or grim I hope. I'm just trying to process this aspect of my life. Dying is a part of life, not that it is easy to accept that this is our fate. It is all such a puzzle. We get born, grow up, learn interesting skills and facts, have lots of experiences and then, we die or as one might see it transform into another form or join the larger energy field of the universe.


Blue Sky Dreaming said...

I like this exploration into those that have been loved and who have died. Not a bad thing at all in my world...allowing transformations, letting go, leaving room for new.
Are you glazing? I like the soft colors.

Robin said...

This is so powerful....and it is a loving tribute to those who have died. I know many people shy away from this topic....but it is something that untimately will touch us all.

Hauntingly beautiful - and very warm and full of love.


♥ Robin ♥

deb said...


I stumbled across your blog from Kates Corner and wanted to say hi! I love what your doing here. What a wonderful keepsake of memories your will have when your finished. Please do pop over for a visit! Nice to meet you! deb

sukipoet said...

BSD: I guess i am glazing and maybe too soon ie get the base coat down then glaze on top. i have been doing very watery coatings of acrylic.

Lisa at Greenbow said...

Your dreams are coming alive on paper. Dreams have a way of entering our lives whether we want them to or not. Maybe you are just missing your loved ones.

marianne said...

Wow such nice pages . A kind of tribute of people who are no longer there. Indeed death is a part of life. The one thing we can't escape from........
Love this post love these pages.

Enjoy your day♥

Lynn said...

Do you think it's a waste? Or not fair? I wish we could live forever without having to worry how to support ourselves. I want to create a more perfect world.
Oh boy, where did all that come from? See how powerful your art is?

~Babs said...

Death. Something never thought about in youth, and all of a sudden we start to think about it.
I hope to be able to do it well when my time comes, if that makes any sense.
These are very interesting pages. I see a strong resemblance with you and your Mom, and love that you have your Dad's birth certificate there.
Sometimes I wonder who will think of me when I'm no longer here.(other than family) It would be great to know we'd left a lasting impression on a few hearts, wouldn't it?

sukipoet said...

lynn, i dont know if it is a waste or not fair. to me it is just a puzzle. i am not sure i'd want to live for a thousand years. but i, because i can think and remember as possibly a rock can't though maybe a rock has memories, am wont to ponder this curious irony we call life.

Babs, since my dad was a pathologist and i, at an early age, visited his lab and also since Dad disappeared for a year into a TB hospital where I couldnt visit him and it seemed like he was dead....or for whatever reason I have been aware of death, on differing levels, for much of my life. I also almost died as a child post-tonsillectomy. I just remembered.

In college for theatre class i wrote a paper about a # of plays about death. I have always thought of death as an angel dancing on my shoulder.

these things i dont consider morbid. but rather a looking at life in all its facets and a trying to process the one thing in my future that seems pretty certain.

Teri C said...

I always find your books so interesting and so individally you. You really put your heart and soul into anything you do. Sometimes I get to thinking about our mortality too. Does make one wonder what life is all about.

Annie said...

I don't think this is grim at all, a lovely way to remember your loved ones. I have been thinking a lot of dealth too, a cousin, a friend and 3 pets gone in a year. I may have to do some pages myself.
Beautiful. xoxo

louciao said...

It all takes the time it speeds up, art slows down, memories float in and out in their own good time. I think it's a rewarding process to honour those we've loved and who have passed away from this life, although it's a process I have not yet developed/created for myself. I am having many dreams of my grandparents of late. Perhaps they are being honoured in the alternate world of dreams...or perhaps they are honouring me with their visits. Your book will be a beautiful tribute to those you've lost. It's fascinating to see it develop.

kikipotamus said...

Suki, this is beautiful and I don't think it's grim at all. I think our learning contributes to the evolution of planetary consciousness in some small but cumulative way. Well, it seems small to us because one lifetime is such a blink of an eye compared to the grand scale. But all of it matters, I believe.

kj said...

suki, i think about this too and i love seeing these memories put to memories and then to your soft images. for myself, i am so aware of the times i drag myself through a demanding day or long for something out of reach and why would i do that when i know full well that my days are so precious i don't want them to end?

the time is now.
the place is here.

studio lolo said...

I think it's healthy to think of death and to also honor those who have passed. I love that Miss Emily is among them. I know you miss her.

studio lolo said...

sorry, computer issues!
I also meant to add that I love these pages. I always love the way you layer colors and textures.


Sue said...

Very personal and touching artworks - it is such a liberating way getting in touch with loved ones (or even exploring the less loved ones...) by painting or writing about them with an open, creative mind. Your relationship finds new facets and new aspects.

Katiejane said...

I've thought the same thing: What't it all about, Alfie? Is this all there is?
Yes, death is a part of life, and we must continue on and do the best we can. So hard.
I love this new work you are doing. And I like Flavia'a art. I didn't realize she was gone, too.

sukipoet said...

This may be a different Flavia, Katie Jane. My friend was not well known and died back in 1997 or so. I have never shown her artworks here I dont think.

glitz said...

I just love the first of the paintings, Suki.
No, I don't think you're at all morbid! I think it's such a shame that we think that to even mention someone who had a profound (or not) influence on our lives, but has passed over now, as being too hard to handle is such a shame!
But your lightness of touch in this first image for your Dad is just gorgeous!
Arohanui, Lesley.

Uma said...

What beautiful tributes these are. I love that the words are painted over most of the way, yet still there beneath the layers.