"Ceremony" and mom
Ceremony is a large scale painting and part of a series I call, "Consolation flowers," which explores the intersection of grief, memory, and transformation through observational oil paintings of the flowers offered at their funerals. What began as an act of preservation gradually became a sustained practice of reflection and connection, with each painting functioning as a quiet tribute and ongoing conversation with those I lost. This large canvas was begun in 2019 when the lilies and impasto application of paint entered my work. (A bright cousin recognized this on a visit to my home studio. Kudos, Alessia.) After the "Consolation flowers" began, I took this canvas out and had my way with it again, leaving only the patch of lilies in the left middle ground of the canvas. I built the composition around this with a quite decayed birthday arrangement sent to me by a dear Aunt and my mother’s de facto head of state. Another composition of this arrangement lives in “Bad birthday.” (see website)
Titling the work, "Ceremony" is a bit of a send up to my favorite band and my Mom, the biggest supporter of my painting. Listening to music is a mainstay for many a painter and "Ceremony" by New Order is my anthem. I think of my mother, listening to me start my engines as I listened to this song through the 80s, 90s, etc. She would hear my feet pounding and pouncing on the floors as intermittent breaks of dancing sustained me through the practice of painting. Draw. Mix color. Make marks. Create a shape. Dance. Endorphins rise and mind focuses again. The process repeats until someone calls me for a meal, a phone call, a chore in the house.
My mother supported and sustained my practice of painting and she continues in spirit. This canvas is a culmination, then, of my song, her care, her understanding of my artistic process and my neurodivergent brain. I worked for hours, practicing my watercolors and learning the tricks through trials with oil paints, all while weakening the floorboards and destroying the carpets in my teenage bedroom of her house.
The series does not end here, as there is more to uncover and learn, but it could be quite a lovely resolution.
Our mother’s start it all. Shouldn’t they receive the bouquet of congratulations in the end?