hanging in De Pluk
this is my contribution to the group exhibition in De Pluk, in the aftermath of Covid (one hopes)
'wat we meenemen en wat we missen kunnen'
'what we take with us and what we can do without'
handmade apron, containing fabrics from many women all over the globe and a broad band original seventies kitchen-curtain-fabric from our parents' home, vintage child's apron -mine or my sister's- a photo of my parents on a family holiday in Brittany in the seventies, my short note
my work, needless to say, is all about my personal loss, rather than Covid, although I sense it echoes what many have experienced
on the piece of paper to the right, which is an essential part of the piece, my words:
In the last year I have lost both parents within a space of three months.
'they reached a ripe old age'
'better like this than the other way around'
.....yeah right, whatever
I miss them
All I have left are memories
Both my parents wore aprons. My Mom had long ones, short ones, some with ruffles, some made up just for the holidays some that buttoned in back and the bottom was one long pocket. My Dad had a special apron, black that was long with a tie around the neck and my Mom had embroidered the Spanish flag and a bota bag! cause my Dad never wore his apron when he grilled outdoors without also having his leather bota bag, filled with wine.
One of the best conversations I had with an old family friends after the deaths of my parents, they died within two years of each other, simply asked a question? The question was, "Were you ready for them to go?" The friend who asked the question also answered it by saying, "No, but I still talk to them but don't get the usual funny answers from your Mom that made me laugh or the wise answers from your Dad that made me think..."
On another note: Saskia, I thought of you today as I finished reading a book, Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Whey did I think of you? Well because the books if filled with fungus but you don't really understand the importance until around pg. 211...this book is a spine tingling horror read and I'm glad I finished reading it in daylight...! Here is a bit:
"The fungus, it runs under the house, all the way to the cemetery and back. It's in the walls. Like a spider's web. In that web we can preserve memories, thoughts, caught like the flies that wander into a real web. We call it the repository of our thoughts, of our memories, the gloom."
How is that possible?
Fungus can enter into symbiotic relationships with host plants. Mycorrhiza. Well it turns out it can also have a symbiotic relationship with humans. The mycorrhiza in the house creates the gloom."...
You have ancestral memories because of a fungus?"....n
your mother....that glorious smile....
both my parents wore aprons too! I didn't use to, but started wearing one a couple of years ago....some days I wear one all during the day and even go for a walk wearing it;-)
I do so enjoy reading about your background in your comments, very blogworthy!
how little I knew barely a year ago
Als je de oudste van 10 bent dan zijn veel van je stoffelijke herinneringen vergaan , door de jaren heen weg gedaan mede door de jongeren ,Op rommelmarkten zie ik dan soms van die materie liggen ... herinneringen aan hoe het was .... en glimlach in dankbare herkenning , streel ze in gedachten en ben dankbaar om de geur de handeling het moment van gebruik in die dagen ... ze zijn nog aanwezig ... those day's , in gedachten geef ik jou nu een knuffel in gedeelde herinnering.