New paintings and regular art updates.
Our house, our friends, our relatives.
We were together so long
I can’t say ‘my’ yet
Even after a year.
Sometimes I feel like it’s a dream.
Hubby, my hubby, will be back.
Walk into our house
Be with our friends
Our relatives.
They know
I miss him.
So
Tears, in memory of him, digitally manipulated photo using photodirector (not AI). 4.12.23.
I keep getting ads in my time line to order my 2024 past book now.
Anyone who follows me will know I don’t need reminding. I have had the worst 12 to 24 months in my life that I never want to live over again. I hope to get through December and have a better start to 2025, although I worry about geopolitics. I don’t want one! I don’t want reminding, please don’t make me!
OK that’s enough..
There were good times too, I have some good photos, but I’m not in the mood to share. I’ll hoard those to myself, keep them safe.
What would you do if you lost all your possessions?
What would I do if I lost it all?
Cry for lost memories
Weep for my tranklements
Sigh for my paintings
Scream for my cats
But remember them all
The good times
The joy that they gave
And try to make a new start
A way to cope
Seeking for comfort
Hoping for help.
Loss can destroy
But hope can strengthen
Survival would be my goal.
We met in the September
Moved in together in October
16 years later?
We married.
In 9 minutes it will be our anniversary.
My first without him.
We never really celebrated
He wasn’t into birthdays
Or Anniversaries
A quiet meal
A glass of wine or beer
We were going to be together forever.
The shock when he went
Backed me into a corner.
Nowhere to go
Nothing to do
Surrounded by stuff
That holds me in
Trapped in a corner of sadness
Missing him
And tomorrow? In 5 minutes?
24 hours lost in greif
Lucky to get my painting “mend him” into the Brampton open exhibition in the Brampton museum and art gallery, in Newcastle under Lyme. Staffordshire. It’s on from 14th October I think. The painting is a portrait of my hubby I started last year and finally finished a couple of months after he passed away. I miss him. This is my in memoriam tribute to him.
I had decided to enter it as “not for sale” but the gallery wanted all images to be up for sale so I put a large (very large) price on it to virtually guarantee it won’t be sold. It’s very personal to me, but I wanted people to see it.
It’s acrylic on canvas and I started it in my Studio in Spode Site, Stoke. I finished painting it there after I decided to leave due to not being able to afford the studio rent any longer. It means this is the last painting I completed there.
Describe your ideal week.
My ideal week would be to go out to a studio, paint for a few hours, make good progress on a painting. Go to choir practice. Cook tea for me and my hubby. Sit and chat about our days.
My ideal week would include going for a walk with him, he might go for a cycle ride to see a friend. He goes to bed early, I stay up late to read or watch TV.
In my ideal week I would sleep well, wake refreshed. Go for a drive somewhere with my hubby. Visit a national trust property.
In my ideal week I would try and paint some more, take some photos, go on the Internet.
In my ideal week I would still have my hubby, I would still have my studio, I would still be doing art or at least more than I am now. I’m just struggling to get back to something like an ideal week.
I came home from a nice afternoon singing with a choir to find the hedge behind my neighbours back garden has gone. It’s because one of the houses have been sold and they need access. It’s a shame because the house sparrows used to nest in there. I feel like I’m under threat in all directions! The hedge on the other side of the house has been cut right back which was when we were burgled. It’s all men chopping the plants down. Tidy and lifeless. They will put some gravel down! Meanwhile my garden will survive somehow!
The nights are getting longer
The days slightly shorter
It’s almost bedtime
But I’m hot
My heart aches, my mind too
So I’ll sit and watch TV a bit
No sensible thoughts in my mind
Just watching the nights decline
Into a slow dawn.
Maybe the sun will shine bright
In the morning after this night.
I don’t know
Time goes slow
When you’re alone
With the pain of loss.
I’ve worn this top for years, in fact I was a lot larger when I first got it. But I like it and it’s served me well. But I’ve noticed lately that because of a frozen shoulder and golfers elbow in the same arm I was struggling to bend my arm enough to take off my top.
Tonight was worse. I tried and tried but it wouldn’t budge from my arm. My elbow would not bend and I felt like I was strangling myself. It called for drastic action. Luckily I have a strong pair of scissors. So starting at the wrist I cut up the sleeve. Gradually releasing the pressure. It was particularly difficult as I reached the neck. I was trying not to cut myself! Eventually I was free, but my old cotton top is now in the bin!
Mallaband-Brown