When my mother died I was left to sort through her memorabilia. Photos galore, many with folks I don't know. Scraps of projects she didn't finish. And many she did. A clay duck I gave her when I was in grammar school, a set of tattered Dresden dolls my father gave her when they were courting. Love letters in a shoe box and years of calendars with circled dates and jottings documenting her life. As I sorted I realized that these little scraps represented some of the best parts of her life. The parts we can't put a name to. The ones that change the quality of life for the good. Even though she noted the fender benders and catastrophes of her life on the calendars she also noted PTA meetings, bridge games, birthdays, and celebrations. She strived for balance, reminding all who would listen that life was good.
Derin's tile
So when my grandson gave me this tile as a present for Mother's day I wondered if it would end up in the things-you-can-never-throw-away pile. I use it at my desk for my coffee (he pointed out many times that it was to be used as a coaster). Yesterday it inspired this piece. A study about indecision, balance, ambition and transformation. I'm still thinking about what the title will be. For now it will sit in the do-not-discard pile. Because it was inspired by Derin. And it comes from within.
©2015, Paula Kovarik