6am. Can’t sleep again. Worried about losing my Hair. Looking in the mirror and checking how far down my skull I can see through the Hair. The organza Hair piece starting to clarify and make more sense in my head. I want to preserve them, just like through showing my grandma’s quilt I wanto to preserve the Memory of her as a true artist. Not An Unknown one only appreciated at home by her Family. Then I think she didn’t seem to need that. She just wanted to be needed and loved, as long as we needed her to help with all our wants and plans and ideas, when she kept busy, she seemed fulfilled, Dare I say happy. She was usually neurotically sad but when she created super complex, extremely time consuming, tedious pieces for me, whether traditionally “happy” I don’t know but I know she thrived. As soon as my mum and I got busy with our own lives, a month after my wedding, where she was An Absolute star, a Guest of honour, she suddenly Got very sick. She passed away less than two months after my wedding. It just makes me think how dangerous it is to rely one’s entire happiness on someone else needing them. Makes me want to be more selfish, focus on doing my art for me and about me, as relying on someone else always needing you seems very dangerous.
MY IDEA FOR A QUILT – RECLAIMED ORGANZA, TULLE, HAIR
Initial idea came from my unwillingness to buy yet another advent calendar and my 8yo duaghters idea to make one from scraps of fabric, with 24 little pockets, which she would fill out with her leftover Halloween candy. We made it. It looked really cool. Then my 11yo son decided to cut his platinum blonde, 40cm long hair. I cried at the loss of my ethereal elf like platinum blonde baby boy, who everyone always mistakes for a girl. I also understood it was his decision resulting from a need of change, a need of belonging with other boys, his search for his own identity. I kepth the hair. I couldn’t separate from the past. I couldn’t accept the loss. Then I realised we have kept a lot of hair in my family: my grandmother kept my mum’s firt hair, my mum kept my dreadlocks from when I was 18yo, I kept my childrens hair, I even kept my dogs hair! Why do we keep it? I started loosing my hair while breastfeeding and I continue losing them. I can’t let them just go down the drain so I roll them up into lieelt hairballs. I am tempted to keep them and see how much hair I can collect a year. I am thinking of putting the hair into an organza quilt with pockets, as a memory of loss, passing time, the presence of people in our lives, of moments we can’t bring back. Because it is so incredibly hard to let go.
