Today I would like to share with you one of my works that will be on view from 21 July 2022 at MContemporary gallery in Sydney. This work : Alienated (from her family) will be part of my upcoming solo; Family meeting!
And I would like to thank everyone who submitted their stories (see previous post) which incorporated the titles of the works that will be part of my solo exhibition. (please note that those who used the titles to write their stories have not seen the images of the works) It is so exciting to read the various interpretations, because there are always more than one version of what happened at a family meeting;-) You are still welcome to share with me yours if you feel creative and have the time.
Today I am going to share the story Kaylee de Kock wrote using the titles of my works (see titles in bold below). Thank you Kaylee!!
“You sit quietly in the corner at the family meeting. You knew this was not going to be a joyous reunion, but decided to come anyway.
Everyone was bustling about and chatting about their lives. Being the one who alienated oneself from the family, no one pays you any mind. The only one who is happy to see you is the family pet, Tina, the Yorkshire terrier.
Your parents and siblings look at you in disgust. You remember being told once: “appreciate those you are with, because you can’t choose your family, for you are born into it.
Despite this you always wondered why you were raised by such an artificial and nuclear family. They needed you to carry their name high and you dare not have a dream of your own. What has love got to do with it? That’s why you made your decision eight years ago….
You first saw them when you were 10 years old: The good fairies. They lived in a forest near your house. You knew you would be playing with fire, but your curiosity got the best of you. You snuck out after them. A giant was resting in your path. He stood and greeted you. He asked you to follow him, joining the good fairies. You continued along as the nice friendly giant proudly walked into the forest that never seemed to end. You reached a clearing where countless fairies were dancing. They told you to dance along which you happily did. The music was like strings, pulling you along and moving your limbs to its will. The guests enjoyed watching you. You kept sneaking out every night to join your friends. Then before the year was over a great joy was announced. The fairies accepted you as one of their own! Suddenly a group of giants stamped into the clearing. Thank you for coming said the wicked giants. Fearing what they might do, the fairies proclaimed to leave and find a new home. You wrote a note to your parents and left with the fairies….
You don’t regret your choice. You had to tolerate your previous life, because you can’t choose your family. But that is wrong. You can choose who you want to add to your family. The end.
The play-pretend queen found a story about a ‘flute player”, and she would like to share it with you….
“A new flute was invented in China. A Japanese master musician discovered the subtle beauties of its tone and brought it back home, where he gave concerts all around the country. One evening he played with a community of musicians and music lovers who lived in a certain town. At the end of the concert, his name was called. He took out the new flute and played one piece. When he was finished, there was silence in the room for a long moment. There the voice of the oldest man was heard from the back of the room: “Like a god!”
Sketchbook page. Mixed media
The next day, as this master was packing to leave, the musicians approached him and asked how long it would take a skilled player to learn the new flute. “Years,” he said. They asked if he would take a pupil, and he agreed. After he left, they decided among themselves to send a young man, a brilliantly talented flutist, sensitive to beauty, diligent and trustworthy. They gave him money for the living expenses and for the master’s tuition, and sent him on his way to the capital, where the master lived.
The student arrived and was accepted by his teacher, who assigned him a single, simple tune. At first he received systematic instruction, but he easily mastered all the technical problems. Now he arrived for his daily lesson, sat down, and played his tune – and all the master could say was, “Something lacking.” The student exerted himself in every possible way, he practiced for endless hours, yet day after day, week after week, all the master said was, “something lacking.” He begged the master to change the tune, but the master said no. The daily playing , the daily “something lacking” continued for months on end. The student’s hope of success and fear of failure became ever magnified, and he swung from agitation to despondency.
Finally the frustration became too much for him. One night he packed his bag and slinked out. He continued to live in the capital city for some time, longer, until his money ran dry. He began drinking. Finally, impoverished, he drifted back to his own part of the country. Ashamed to show his face to his former colleagues, he found a bat far out in the countryside. He still possessed his flutes, still played, but found no new inspiration in music. Passing farmers heard him play and send their children to him for beginners’s lessons. He lived this way for years.
One morning there was a knock at his door. It was the oldest past-master from his town, along with the youngest student. They told him that tonight they were going to have a concert, and they had all decided it would not take place without him. With some effort they overcame his feelings of fear and shame, and almost in a trance he picked up a flute and went with them. The concert began. As he waited behind the stage, no one intruded on his inner silence. Finally, at the end of the concert, his name was called. He stepped out the stage in his rags. He looked down at his hands, and realised that he had chosen the new flute.
Now he realized that he had nothing to gain and nothing to lose. He sat down and played the same tune he had played so many times for his teacher in the past. When he finished, there was silence for a long moment. Then the voice of the oldest man was heard speaking softly from the back of the room: ” Like a god!”
quoted from a book I received as a gift recently called: “Free Play” by Stephen Nachmanovitch
Sketchbook page. Mixed media
Anyway, I hope you all had a wonderful Easter-weekend! Take care…xxx
Rabbit! where did you hide those eggs, girl? (detail of a work which I will tell you more about later)