This is a photo of an original painting by the Canadian indigenous artist Clemence Westcoupe on my messy bed. My mother, who passed away a couple of years ago, loved his work, and bought two of his paintings, even though she could ill afford them at the time. I saw these in her home all my life and they remind me of her, her love of beauty, and her generosity of spirit.
This photo was taken last month after I had the frame restored on the painting because it was my sister's birthday. She lives in Florida. Both the frame restoration and the shipping were insanely expensive and we had to find a box in which to ship it, a further expense. However, it was worth it because my sister was delighted. These paintings bring back many memories of times spent with Mom. I thought it was very appropriate that we should each have one.
I still have to hang mine. Looking at it still brings tears to my eyes, but I try to focus on the positive memories, and I think having this painting around will help me to do that. I found out that the artist passed away the year before my mother did. Selling the paintings briefly occurred to me, but I realized that, while I am generally not attached to material things, these are too precious to me to sell. It was a sacrifice to send one to my sister. She is as entitled to it as I am, but, living so far away, she would probably never have said anything.
Still, I love her and I wanted her to also have this tangible reminder of Mom. Mom was a special person. She was a teacher and touched many lives. For part of her career, she taught ESL, and she taught me from a young age to be sensitive to the multiple cultures that surround us here. That is embodied in her love of indigenous art also. I miss her a lot.
(My comments are crazy long today... apologies. Some days are like that. Congratulations if you read all of this.)
