Yesterday I was peering down the telescope of time , encountering the wistful memories familiar to so many mothers . An indulgent contemplation you may think - with the busy pace of life we seldom have the time to notice time itself slipping past. How is it that our lives and families change so gradually , imperceptibly , and yet I always feel as though I'm positively hurtling toward something . As I picked my sketchbook out of the drawer ( a sentimental memory on its own as I've done no new drawing for several years ! ) and flicked through the pages , there was my oldest son , now 17 , looking so different ( see first post ! ) So little ; so vulnerable . I remembered how he actually needed me once ! A tiny hand on my sleeve imploring me to stop talking , a face full of delight when I was spotted amongst the parent audience at assemblies ! Little nostalgic snippets once sifted rising to the surface .
I have hardly dared to share my drawings with anyone really . It's very exposed ; much more naked than showing the fruits of your labours in a bear . Pictorial art can reveal as much about the artist as the subject somehow .It's uncomfortably personal ....
Well I've gone and stuck 2 of my efforts on the blog ; no turning back now !
I might have actually drawn both with a similar sense of meditation on things past. Both were done from photographs . As a pinchable toddler Max pulled back his pyjama top on his head , turban style , looking like an adorable Indian princeling .The second , where he is older , is also retrospective ; the photo having been taken a couple of years before I did the sketch .
I would like to learn to draw ; to capture the emotion of a set moment on paper . For now I hope to convey something through the faces of little bears ! Giving them expression is my constant intention ; as though they may just have little thoughts and memories of their own ....