Cecile's story will live on through Póilin (Puppet)

Life can be so amazing, 

and sad, and inspiring, 

and full of contradictions 

and syncronicities all at the same time.

Cecilia Maier Gilchrest March 23, 1944 - March 03, 2018

The past few days I have finally started to put words and images together for my first talk in Nottingham Puppet Festival. The thoughts were well formed in my mind. I just hadn't found the moment yet to put the thoughts in order and into a presentation.

Friday was the day 'it happened'.
The thoughts, and the many notes I had made during the past 6 weeks of pretty much 'hugging the couch', were put in a reasonably orderly manner on a large blank page!

One of the notes I found were by my friend Cecile

"What an auspicious way to begin spring*. 

The energy that propels you so gracefully to give the gift of puppets to others."

* 21st March is first day of spring in USA & Holland anyway

21st March also happens to be World Puppetry Day.

My first talk is on the 23rd March. Cecile's birthday.

Yesterday I added a very short film to my presentation, of Cecile and Póilin Puppet having a moment of deep connection.
A few hours later I heard that Cecile had passed away on the 3rd March.

Rest in peace my dear friend.

Cecile and I met last month for the first time. But we had been in contact via email, and via our spiritual beings for over two years. Read her/our story here. It is beautiful.

"And then we stood on the wall, held hands, 

and flew in one of the most beautiful dreams of my life."

Cecile Gilchrest

In short, the book-in-a-box format of my book Into the Light  was conceived in room 4 of the Care Centre at Dzogchen Beara. Cecile stayed in room 4 a few months after the book was officiallly launched there. She connected with the words and images, and with the author on a very deep level. When made aware of the connection with the very room, email contact was initiated.

How beautiful a journey we have had over the past two and a half years. Not beautiful in terms of our health challenges, but beautiful to develop a deep understanding of our lives, and the way we find ways to live the best way we can.

We often shared a 'cup of tea', while I'd sit beside her bed.
All via our emails and thoughts, as Cecile lived in the USA, I am in Ireland.

We often shared 'virtual' time in the conservatory of room 4 at the Care Centre. Again in our thoughts, and with the idea, that ONE day, we will actually be together.

It became a reality.

We booked a stay at the Care Centre for the first week in February 2018. Cecile was accompanied by her daughter Monique and friend Dolores (Dee). They travelled all the way from the USA.

I am so immensely grateful for having had time with Cecile.
We talked. Cried. Laughed. Hung out.
Unfortunately I was ill during my stay, so didn't get to spend as much time as I would have hoped, but we met every day in room 4!

Last year we realized we also both have a connection with puppetry.
Cecile used puppetry until the age of 26. She clearly never lost her skills, as watching her animate my puppet Póilin, was just pure magic. I had only seen my puppet as an object I was working on.
In Cecile's hands she came alive.
So, Póilin was truly born on the 2nd February 2018.

Thank you Cecile.
Your story, and stories, and I have many in my head and heart, will live on through Póilin.

Rest peacefully my dear friend.
It has been an honour to have been part of your life.

Corina

12th March 2018

Great adventures from the confines of my house

Life can be curious.

The past month or so, I have been rarely outside the door.
Twice to go to hospital appointments, once to the library, and once to Dungarvan, two weeks ago. An hour buzzing around on my scooter through two shops. Sitting in a cafe waiting for my lift to bring me home again, I had a great difficulty to walk from the chair back to my scooter. About six steps?
It had taken many false starts to actually get out the door, so back on my couch at home, I was pleased I had done a 'normal' thing on a normal Saturday.

While in recovery mode, I received a message via Facebook from a lecturer at Nottingham Trent University to invite me to give a talk at a puppet festival in March ...
Sure! Great!
I nearly got up to pack my bags there and then.

The freedom of my mind...

I did wonder if my brain - my mind - is amazing, or deeply flawed ...

Here I was, ill from one hour on my scooter, a total of about two hours outside my house, and yet I did not see any difficulty with the prospect of going to the UK. Or even to Canada next summer. Another invitation to talk about my puppets...

I know I can do it. I know I can go to the UK. It does however require a lot of planning.

I made it to the family reunion in Holland during the summer. Tough on my health, but so worth it.

The journey the puppets are bringing me on, is just to amazing too dismiss.

Puppets, ME, Disability, health, are all part of my story. 

Although I rarely get outside the door, I am reaching people far beyond my wildest dreams. As if the strings of the puppets are bringing me out into the world again.

* There are contacts with some amazing women who, behind the scenes, are making the experience of life with ME in today's Ireland to the people who need to hear it: Politicians, HSE staff. Researchers, Hospital consultants, OT's, Social Welfare, the public who still believes we are just a little tired...

I am in awe of the power of this very small group. 

* Contacts too with other creatives, who encourage me to keep going. Who trust me to share with them the art of making puppets. Or trust in the creative process in general.

 * Contacts with readers of my books. For example an email from a mother of a young woman severely ill with ME.  ... As I try and motivate and stimulate K to use her sore eyes more, we started putting a new picture in her room each day for her to look at and enjoy. ...  we have been using a new nature picture from the Into the Light box each day.  Her favourite so far has been raindrops hanging from red buds. That one has stayed in her room well beyond its allotted day as she loves it so much... 

* Contacts with puppeteers from around the globe.

* Being supported by friends and family in all sorts of kind ways. Touching each other's lives. Learning from our varied stories.

* And being invited for a radio interview with Bernadette and Stan Phillips on their World in View program. Exactly a year since the interview during the Dis ability ... This Ability Exhibition, which perhaps was one of those pivotal steps in my own adventures of stepping out of the disability/illness box with the help of my puppets...

Listen to the interview here 

(about 15 minutes long)

And in the next few weeks there are more adventures, for which I do not have to leave my house.

• I have a meeting with Senator Grace O'Sullivan to talk about ME, Disability and Puppets. Grace gave a very passionate talk at the Dis ability ... This Ability Exhibition exhibition last year.
• On Friday 1st December Cora Fitzgerald's Cocoon Life Website will go live. And I have the honour to be their first guest with a (pre-recorded) podcast.  'Cocoon life is a website about inspiring Journeys, Life lived With Purpose'.

• 

  image /text for the Cocoon Life podcast recording
  

• Also on Friday 1st December, the special version of the Life Outside the Box will be screened on Irish National television. RTE 1 6 pm, during the People's Angelus.
• On the 8th December our puppet film will be shown during the Together! Festival in London.
• I will be going out to meet prospective new readers during the Villierstown Craft fair Sunday 26th November!

Phew.

So, although life can be hugely challenging at times, it is also amazingly rewarding. And curious.

Thank you ALL for coming along on my adventures through life.

I could not have done it without you.

Don't forget the sale which is on at the moment on my website and at my studio. 

And during the Villierstown Craft fair Sunday 26th November.

20% discount on books and prints during November, 10% during first two weeks in December.

 

A wonderful life, a life full of wonder

A post I wrote a good few weeks ago, but never saw the light of day.

So, here it is...

Sometimes life it just wonderful.
Wonder-ful.
Full of wonder.

Facebook
Many of you know that I was never much of a fan of Facebook, but I was 'tricked' back into this strange world to fundraiser for Into the Light just over two years ago. The page wage was managed for me. I just suggested what could be written on it. I stayed away from this scary place for a god while. But, alas, eventually I wrote a few words myself, and added pictures, and then even wrote on my personal page, not just my Art page ... I know...

But, as life moves on, I have moments when I actually like facebook...

Being part of that world, has brought me in contact with many other creative, I would not have met otherwise. I don't get out into the real world all that often.
It led to giving puppet making classes.
It led to some amazing (many private) conversations, about birds, and books, and art.
About healing, and illness, about challenges and gratitude.

Goldcrest

Birds and books

A photo of a little bird which had flown against my kitchen window. The photos of the bird brought a discussion about what kind of bird it was, many got involved.  It also led to a conversation with a fellow nature lover, also living with M.E. Selina is currently in Scotland, and we "visited" each other's gardens, through sharing images, taken from our homes.
I loved that!

Also, recently I was contacted by a lady who's drawings I had posted in a post last year about Severe M.E. Linda had come across  a version of this post on the Disability Arts Online blog. Linda and her husband Greg, then found themselves exploring my website, and made contact with me on facebook.  We are both creatives, like to write, love the birds, identified in such similar ways in terms of the experience of illness. Linda's symptoms are much more severe. Being grateful to have seen some light in my journey, I decided to post a copy of Into the Light to her. Just felt right.  As Hatched  is about my first eight years of illness, when I was still pretty shook, they downloaded the book from my website: Linda:"I really am moved by the words and pictures and they touch my own experience."

When Into the Light arrived at their doorstep, we were all catapulted into a place of wonder and excitement.  Linda was awake during the night and felt compelled to write her thoughts on the book. Greg got inspired to create a beautiful page on their Stonebird Website. I felt overwhelmed by their kindness, and what the creation I had made, made such an impact on people I will most likely never meet in person.

“What we love about this in essence deconstructed and elegantly transformed book, is how it brings accessibility, where an ordinary book is too heavy, too complex and often too many pages and too many words to manage. 

The imagery and photography convey so much to me personally – they elicit a recognition and deep resonance in my heart of my own experience, yet bring hope. They seem to bring a multi dimensional aspect because it resonates so deeply with what I know myself also from my own very severe illness and helps me recognises a bond of knowing between us, carried through the messages, words, imagery, beyond what is physically seen – the gift of not aloneness, the comprehension of pain, the need to surrender to the experience yet not to give in, the triumph, the resilience of the human heart and spirit despite intense physical suffering.” (Linda Crowhurst - See more at the Stonebird website)

What can I say.
It has been an amazing week.

... And to top it all, at the very moment I was writing this I heard a motorbike stop outside my gate. Followed by a knock on the door. The driver has seen one of my prints I have displayed on the wall...

'Into the Light print:
'The blessing for which we hunger are not to be found
in other places or people.' John O'Donohue  - Anan Cara

We had a lovely chat and he went away with a copy of Into the Light .

So, Facebook can be full of wonder, 

but having this unexpected visitor equates to a wonderful life.

A short adventure to Owennashad River in Lismore

Beautiful dying dandelion

I had friends over from Holland last week, I wanted to show them Lismore strand (Owennashad River). Of course stopping off at the bridge over the Blackwater to take photos of them and Lismore castle. 

My mobility scooter just about fits on the bridge's sidewalk, although it requires some nerve wrecking manoeuvring to not tumble of the sidewalk onto the road.

Getting to the Strand, my objective, was even more challenging. But fun. 

As staying on the road seemed a bit dangerous, I managed to get up on the sidewalk over the second bridge, but halfway down, it proved to be just a little too narrow to pass the lamppost. I could not reverse, too narrow to take that change, so I got off my scooter. Annemieke handed me my sticks, Marga and Hanna manually manoeuvred the scooter carefully around the lamppost. Must have been an interesting sight!

Anyway, we did make it to the Owennashad river, which runs alongside the Blackwater. In the summer time part of the river is dug out to make it into a pool. A beautiful spot. But unfortunately rather inaccessibly by wheelchair/scooter due to the beautiful roots of the ancient trees. My friends did walk down, and I had some glorious time sitting by the 'peddling pool' part of the river.

while my friends walked further to
Lismore Strand...

I looked at the flowers and grasses around me, like the dying dandelions. And Truly, I am mesmerized how beautiful they are.

Dandelion seed head. Just beautiful

Dandelion

Dandelion

Grey Wagtail on the river

I spotted a grey wagtail over the river too, and watched the water move over the rocks. 

The dance of nature.

Grey Wagtail on the river

Towards Lismore strand

bridge over Owennashad River 

autumn starting already

Yes, I would have liked to walk the pathway, but I was ever to pleased to be at the water's edge. Surrounded by nature.
And having the company of friends!

The root of sorrow is craving, but there is always hope to see the bigger picture

The root of sorrow is craving.

Antony de Mello - Awareness 

potbound Aloe Vera

Three weeks of recovery from the 'hospital-Holland-marathon', and I seem to be finally completing the road to re-connect with the person that I thought was me.  Both the hospital and travel had a rather big impact on my mind. On my beliefs. On my physical, but also mental well being.
I became aware of a sense of loss. I realize that the sorrow, the sense of loss, were based on what I perceive I do not have.

"Ghosts of lives you might have lived ... If not becoming ill ..."

Hilary Mantell. Learning to talk.

I wanted to be like my siblings, who are walking, cycling, working, able to stay up late and rely on their working brain, be sociable, and not having to go to bed at the same time as the 4-years-olds... I became much more aware of my life with illness.  Of course they have their challenges too. Everybody has. I just needed a little time to make sense of it all again. To put 'everything' back into perspective. I needed to hope again. And to see the bigger picture.

"Waiting with a resilience of spirit, in the certain knowledge that, 

if we wait long enough and if we are true to ourselves 

then things will make sense, is waiting in hope."

Sister Stanislaus Kennedy. Gardening the Soul 

The happiest place I could be these past few weeks was in my garden. Touching the earth. Grounding myself. Clearing, re-arranging my garden and my thoughts.

"If we lose touch with our sources, we are in danger of losing hope. 

That is why it is so important to stay close to nature, to listen to the trees and flowers, 

potatoes and hedges, shrubs and bulbs grow in silence.”

Sister Stanislaus Kennedy. Gardening the Soul 

Although yesterday was mainly spend recovering from outstaying the welcome in my garden the day before (weeds are more difficult to remove from gravel than it is from soil... trust me... ) I also had the great fortune to have a lovely meeting with an other creative being.

A creative meeting about possibilities for my work. Where to go from here.
To see the bigger picture of years of creating, and learning. A meeting in which minds were aligned, and experienced support, from a clear, open and honest mind. A chat which gave me hope and direction, and in which I saw my work through someone else's eyes and experiences. It also brought a possible new meaning of the project I have been working on for over a year. I am so glad I did not cancel that meeting because of the challnges of my body that day!

Life-Dance - work in progress

I might not be able to walk much, or cycle, or stay up late, or garden to my heart's content, but I have hope. Hope with a capital H. Which is ultimately linked with Trust.
Trust that all is well. And that I can see the biger picture of my life as it is.

I am grateful to have spend so much time in my garden these past few weeks. To reconnect with nature, with Mother Earth.
And to have taken the time at making sense of own little world again.
To observe what I value most. And... where I don't want to be. And where I can possibly go from here. To have reconnected - even it is just through talking about- and not quite doing- with my creative life.

Grateful to have taken time to reconnect with me again, not just with the capital letters M.E.


I truly hope that you, my dear readers, are well. 
And are finding hope, with a capital H, in your lives.
Thank you so much for your continued interest in my musing.
Be well.

Back Garden Bliss

In yesterday's post I wrote about the clearing of my garden, with the help of Anne.
Here a few pictures of the lovely cleared, and again tranquil garden.
My deepest gratitude for this amazing kindness of time and friendship.

Anne who so kindly helped me to clear my back garden of weeds.
I can now See the garden again,
and have clear paths.

Foxglove standing proud

The wonders called Poppies.
Never tired of looking at them.

Free path to my studio

... and free path to my herb garden

my beloved greenhouse
and Tranquil setting of Buddha, Maple and water feature

side of studio, with Hypericum shrub,
which will, after flowering be transplanted to Anne's Garden

Jasmin, just outside my studio door

Sally overseeing the cleared garden
on the steps of my studio

view from the studio

• Another follow up from Yesterday's post consists of two podcasts about dealing with M.E. and ongoing research. See HERE

Is routine the key to living well with illness?

Lots of thoughts this morning. About meditation, medication, routine, pacing, finding my way again.

Meditation

The power of meditation to feel how my body truly feels. And not to mask pain totally with pain medication.
A fine line, I think.

Medication

Yes, I do take pain medication. I am very glad to have them.
After many trails over the years of strong pain relief, I now mainly use very basic medication. The more drastic ones all had me end up living like a zombie, or had too many side effects, which made life more intolerable in different ways. (Note: This is my experience. I am sure that we all have different views on this.)

There are days that I find it important to really see/feel how my body is functioning.
By taking too much pain medication, there is the change that I continually overdo it, because I don't feel the pain which activities are causing. The danger arises that I end up in a vicious circle.
... if that makes sense...?

Preventative pain relief

I do take pain medication in advance of an activity, when I know I simply don't have a choice not to overdo it. Like for travel, or extended outings.
Sometimes I take pain medication when I am in the middle of an activity where there is no choice but to keep going. I can hardly lie down in a shop, or on the street when I can no longer function due to pain or fatigue. The basic Paracetamol seems to work for this to some degree.
In the hospital I was advised to take paracetamol on a routine basis. I followed this advise for the Holland adventures, but am now trying to take less again.

... and dealing with pain after doing too much

Other times I have already grossly overstayed my own welcome in being kind and considerate to my body...
Like yesterday.
Where I had a friend help me in the garden to do some weeding. She did not mind at all, at all, if I did nothing but observe. But I LOVE being involved in my garden so I did my bit of weeding. Sitting down. But I did too much. I felt ill. In so much pain. I spend the rest of the afternoon on the bench in the garden and on the couch. So, yes. I did dowse myself with pain relief. And yes I did feel a bit better after a few hours. But is that really the answer?

I don't think it is.

'Wisdom' sculpture by Corina Duyn 2015, background view is in Dzogchen Beara

So, back to meditation

Hence I started my day with meditation, to really explore where I am at. How to proceed. How to get back to being well again. Well within illness. Well without putting too many chemicals into my body. Well by listening to my body.

I would like to get back to my routine. To stay within my levels of ability. Which due to the surgery and the 'hospital-Holland-marathon' has taken a good few steps backwards.

I know that for me routine is the key to living well with illness. 

I need to get back to:

• Pacing my activities:
•  Exploring over the next few weeks where my level of ability is at this point in time.
• Establishing my routine again:
• Spend time in Meditation
• To be involved in creative activities and writing
• Connect with nature
• Have social contact at least once a day, in the form of actual meetings, and if that is not possible, than a phone call or skype is great too.
• Do some form of movement, through breathing, yoga, tai chi, or walking.
• Prepare for a Proper sleepWhen things get tough to do a very short healing meditation 

• To eat well. To not put the 'wrong fuel in my body'.
• To just be. Be with whatever is happening.

That is my plan.

What is your plan?

Gert Roos

Gert Roos 

24 December 1953 - 29 March 2017

Today is for my dear friend Gert Roos.

I am honoured to have had the friendship of this beautiful man for 33 years.

Gert Roos 

24 December 1953 - 29 March 2017

Gert is being laid to rest today in Bloemdaal (Holland)

Peace be with you and with your family, 

especially Marga, Guus and Hanna

and all your friends.

Much love

Corina

poem by Lao Tse
on Gert's card

Drawing made in memory of Gert by SNAB

I met Gert in 1984 when we both started working at a newly establised group home for people with leanring difficulties, then called 'Het Wad', in Haarlem (Holland). Our close connection was quickly established, and never faded. Even though I left Holland five years later.

We remained in touch via letters, phone calls, and visits at their house or here in Ireland. But there was also a connecting which did not need normal forms of communication. A spiritual connection. 

Which I feel is still here, even after his untimely passing last week.

Some memories of Gert Roos
with his daughter Hanna, and wife Marga in their garden last September;
Eating the Dutch 'kroket' in Haarlem;
A photo from ten years ago, when Gert and Marga got dressed up
for a seventies party- large glasses over his own;
We were getting ready for the group-home cycle holiday and Gert
took out the broken bicycles on the day we were to leave,
'scaring' the parents;
And Gert and myself at a campsite, the last day I spend time with him
and day of our last hug.

Over the past two years since Gert became ill, Mariela and I travelled to Holland to spend time with Gert and Marga. I am so glad that it was possible to make these journeys. It saddends me to no end, that I am not there today to share his last journey with all those who love him.

For the last visit I had gathered some images of the time we worked together. These always made us laugh. There are so many stories. They bring a smile to my face even when I write on this sad day.
And yet my heart is crying. That same day we shared the sadness of his ailing health. A mixed bag of emotions.
Since that last visit we stayed in touch via the phone, and via many messages, sharing funny memories, beautiful memories, music we like at this moment, photographs, stories, sadness, heartbreak, encouragements, understanding and gratitude.

I am so pleased that Gert decided to ring me on my birthday, 19 days before he passed away. I had not heard his voice for a few months. I am glad that he rang when he did, as I was almost out the door for my hospital appointment. I would have missed his call.

For the past while, but especially since the news of his passing last week, a piece of music, a word on the radio, an add on the telly, a plant on my garden,...  all bring stories in my mind of the friendship we shared.

Today Mariela and I will be at the funeral, but here in Ireland. We will go to the cathedral, which I know had a special place in Gert's heart, and celebrate his life well lived during a lunch afterwards.

MEme, my little penguin will be my 'aide-de-camp'.  My brother Hans, and friend Christine will be at the funeral in Holland too.

A sad day.
But I am grateful to have had his companisonship, his guidance, his frienships, support, encouragement and love for all those years.

Rest Easy Gert

our shared love of music
I have this note in the CD case for
maybe 15 years?
I listened to this often over the past while,
and after hearing the sad news.
("Dear Corien, Enjoy the Fado from Misia. I am entralled by it.
I experience it as a positive melancholy.
I wonder what you think of it.
Kis, Gert)

The dance of life

"Prachtig" 

Gert Roos

Creative projects never progress very fast with me. But there are visible creative growth spurts.
I am experiencing one right now. Thank you Gert.

For years, and years I wanted to do an animation project.
Maybe this stems back from the Ballycardool project I was involved in (making the figures) in the two years leading up to me becoming ill.
Or maybe because I love puppets. I love when 'dolls' come to life.
Maybe it is the Life Outside the Box project that sparked finally starting my dream project.

I knew the theme of my project for a long time...
Inspired by this image from the Japanese animation movie Spirits of the Past.

still from: Origin, Spirits of the Past. Keiichi Sugiyama (Director) 

Although I tried to so something with this image initially through the form of a tapestry.

And... in all honesty - cocoons, pods, eggs, boxes... have appeared in my work for as long as have made Artist Dolls. (See link below to my galleries if you like to see them).

Anyway.
A pod
A cocoon
and a figure emerging from it
exploring my garden.

a little footnote
Over the years my creative work seems to go hand in hand with what is going on in my life. But I only became aware of these 'coincidences' much later. Sometimes months or even years.

So.
In July (I think) I bought an animation armature.
Sounds grand, but it really is a bag full of tiny, tiny, nuts and bolds, and rods, and screws, and wire, and a drawing on how to put these bits into a a figure.

Fun. Frustrating. Painful (literarly). But in the end I did have a little 'being'

I found some small eyes and put this in a piece of clay. The base for the head.

This is the way 'she' sat there for months and months, while I researched on how to make hands, that can move; what material to use, how can I make a face that shows expression... Animation/claymation is mind blowing stuff really. But interesting to explore a completely new territory.

The first cocoon I made out of paper mache, but as I wanted to be out in the garden, it had to be made out of real clay. This method brings its challenges. 

Real clay (versus air drying clay) shrinks a lot during drying and can not that easily be added on to when dry. And my studio days can be few and far between. But in the end, I did end up with a pod. And to my surprise and delight, it did not crack at all, at all, during the firing.

unfinished cocoon

The idea is that this little being would emerge from the pod/cocoon and walk through my garden.

But when I thought about it a bit more, it felt kind of lonely.

So I bought another armature. A slightly different one. 

Two, to dance together through life.

'She' turned out to be a little bigger. Somehow a little bolder.

I brought both with me to my retreat at Dzoghen Beara in February.

In the past the work that came from my hands and mind in Room 4 had a kind of wisdom in it. The location, the peace, my thoughts all making their way into my creations (Think 'Into the Light' book, and my Wisdom sculpture).

at Dzogchen Beara

I worked on the little one first. Shaping the body and working on her face.

It took me a few day, and what emerged was a kind of wise, quiet, knowing expression. 

A kind of purity - according to John Doughlas.

John Doughlas

The last day I got to know the other little being.
She turned out to be much 'bolder'. Stronger. 'Out there'. Not really caring what anyone thought of her.

John, the wonderful spiritual care staff at Dzogchen Beara whom I have chatted with every single time I was at this beautiful place. He is wise. Very wise. Just before I headed home he explored the week's thoughts with me. And we ended up talking through these two little figures. Talking about where I am at in my life... I am ready to speak up... but bring the wisdom of illness with me.

Ready to dance. The dance of acceptance. The two figures representing both side of me.

"She can only dance when she remembers the connection of the pure one"

dance of life- who is pulling the strings

John wondered that maybe the pure one is pulling the 'strings' of the bolder one.

The pure one having a kind of presence, but not really engaging with her surroundings. 

She can retreat back into her cocoon. 

Together they can dance with joy. And hold on to the inner contentment.

Much later, at home again,  I finally go to work on the cocoon.

resting

I went into the studio to paint it, but ended up using the beautiful papery layers of a wasp's nest.

And over the past few weeks, I have worked a few times on the hands and feet, and boots. Using Silicone. Again a process of trial and (many) errors. But am getting there.

adding silicone on to make hands

On one of the sunny days last week, I chose the location in my garden where the cocoon will be filmed. (how that will happen I don't yet know...)

cocoon in my garden

But then, I received the sad, sad news that my dear friend Gert Roos had passed away after a long illness. A brave man. A friend for 33 years. Gert encouraged me in my journey through life and illness. Encouraged my creative path. (I will write a proper post over the next few days about this beautiful human being).

The sadness of no longer being able to share our worlds took a great deal of my thoughts and energy.

Yet, Somehow I felt this great need to go into my studio. I found I was able to work on the little figure. I gave it hair. I started with the clothing. I felt at ease.

I truly believe that Gert was there with me. Guiding me to keep going. 

To step out of that cocoon, and dance with life.

I have been in my studio every day for the past few days. And will go there again today.

Over the past few months, we communicated via what's app. Sending short messages, memories and photos. I forwarded images and a short film of the cocoon opening to him. The word that came back most times was "Prachtig". Which does not have a direct translation in English, but are a mix between: lovely, gorgeous, stunning, wonderful...

Thank you my dear friend.

Much love to you and all.

Further reading and links

• first images of animation project
• The Dance of Illness
• A drawing by Artist Spark Deeley of the way I sleep
• Fantasy Folk and early ME-related art  and more recent sculptures