20/12/2025
I think I was always an artist
My mom used to tell me a story about when I was very small and got lost at a fair where my parents had put up a food stall. They searched frantically, and eventually found a small crowd gathered somewhere. Only then did they realise it was their daughter—dancing all by herself, without a care or fear in the world—while people stood around watching. of course I have no recollection of this And I don’t have any love for dancing anymore… not now, at least.
Stories like these that I can no longer hear from my mom. Im still to come to terms that she’s not there any more.. and I dont have any of my parents with me.
Memories of my mother keep flooding my eyes.. but most of all I remember her most when I use my hands to make any thing- any craft, anything at all. She was the first craftsperson I ever knew, admired, and stood in awe of. My first teacher.
She could sew, embroider, knit and crotchet and also hundreds of other things to keep the house running.
I realise now how much of my aesthetic sense comes from her.
It was incredible to see the same care reflected in what she left behind—- a box of carefully kept laces, Crotchet thread and needles and designs.
I just hope that I will be able to honour her ; honour her skills and her faith in me.. She taught me these things believing that I would carry them forward. And in making, I think I already am.
Love you mom always. Keep happy and smiling wherever you are.
