Thank you Pam. I really mean that! Here's a dream I had the other night about my mother. I call it 'MOTHER ART'.
I dreamt about my mother last night. She came into my room at night and sat on my bed saying in a queit, purring voice softly spinning endless layers of silk around my psyche: "I am a painter now. I made a mistake choosing a life as a pianist." this, while I stare at the creature who no longer resembles my mother any more than a Tyannosaurus Rex resembles a snake. She continues: "I would like to paint your portrait. Here is a preliminary sketch I did of you." Looking at the pencil drawing she carefully places before me, I see no resemblance to my self although it is skillfully executed. Mother offers to show me her gallery so at the appointed time I enter her hidden chamber, seeing, for the first time, what this 89 year old woman now does instead of piano! The light is dim with the paintings lit up in a glowing, amber light. I am amazed. These are good. I think. Very good.
Landscapes, scenes showing her at the piano on stage, at radio studios, on the organ, at the ballet, the opera, the various School of Fine Arts, at the University's Music Department, with her favorite cars adn the many people she performed with during her long, intensely busy life, all done with bright, pulsating colors, a cross between Van Gogh and the art of my schizophrenic brother-in-law Jan, modern in every way, full of restless movement, uneasy, edgy, biting, exploding with something weirdly sexual but nothing giving, all done on cardboard and, being a painter myself, I notice that not one of them is even framed! "These need to be framed." I tell my mother who watches me with a keen, hawk-like gaze. "You need to have a show - an opening." So my mother does have an opening. Many people come but I recognize no-one until mother's old friend Joan appears looking corpse-like because she's been dead for these past three years and it suddenly occurs to me that they are all dead. "Mother: only the dead are attending your opening." I say to her and she smiles her Cheshire-cat grin.
End of Dream.