Sun and life

One of my favorite paintings by Frida Kahlo is Sol Y Vida (Sun and Life). It hangs on the wall above my computer in my study at home, and sometimes I sit for long minutes at a time just staring into the face, tearful eye, weeping tendrils, and haunting hollows.

When I first saw this painting at an exhibit in Canada I was amazed at how it seemed to sum up the way I felt about my life. It penetrated my soul and touched the very core of my suffering. Dark and ominous, death and sorrow in the little fetus above the sun, and yet hopeful. The one left behind to endure life after sorrow, accompanied by sorrow, and yet full, clear, round, seeing, knowing, vibrant - as passionate, warm and sensual as the sun itself - giving life after death.

I felt akin to the painting sensing all those complex emotions deep within me. My abortions represented by the weeping fetus, the hollow dark spaces as my childhood pain. Lonely, longing, undeserving, unworthy. And yet the sun ever pulling me toward life and hope, always reaching out to the kindness of strangers, gathering strength from their support and positive, accepting energy.

Now, as my mother enters a new phase in her old age, energy fading, allowing herself to receive nurturing and care from my wonderful, solid, generous and kind sister-in-law, I observe and listen from afar, and feel closer to her than ever before in my life. My spirit is full of love and wonder at how she was able to give us all life when her own was so full of struggles, confusion and inner torment. Now, I wish for her comfort and the love of those around her, even though I am unable to be there to provide it for her, and, as always, through circumstance and choice, am on the outside looking in. As always, a stranger, a visitor passing through, with no rights to ownership of anything about her, my love of her will always belong to me; her strength, sense of humor, and passion for knowledge will ever be a part of who I am. Her resilience to failure and determination to try and try again, whenever confronting a dead-end, forever finding a way out, are qualities and skills I learned, acquired and keep close to my heart.

I cried when I heard all her things were cleaned up, distributed or thrown away, and her rich and amazing life now culminating in one room, even though she told me she felt relieved by that. Since then I have been looking around my home and realized that I could certainly sum up my entire life in one room. Indeed, most of what is important to me is in my study. If I placed a bed in this room, that would be all I needed. For my life lives inside my brain, behind the weeping eye. My countenance faces outwards, becoming clearer, more detached, and peaceful, hiding a passionate, spiritual, and sensual soul enduring life after sorrow, accompanied by sorrow, and ever hopeful, seeking joy through loving over and over again.

A year ago on Tamarika: Jack is Back

Comments

[MB]

A poignant piece, deeply colored with rich dark hollows and bright hope...

[tamarika]

Thank you, Jean. Indeed, I really enjoyed writing it. The piece came from deep within me - swirled and whirled around my brain and onto the screen.

Well, it looks like I won't stop blogging ... no not yet. As Golby says: "I blog and that's that."

[Jean]

Tamar, I think this is maybe the strongest and most beautifully constructed and written piece I have read on your blog. And the painting so perfectly illustrates and deepens the subject matter.

It made me feel and think so many things that I couldn't quite sort out which of them I wanted to say.

Don't stop blogging ? :-)