Mother
Her children rise and call her blessed. (Proverbs) Thy care has preserved my spirit. (Job)
The place where I grew up was strong and secure, it was bright and lovely. It was my home. It was the heart and mind of my mother. (A personal reflection)
Her children rise and call her blessed. (Proverbs) Thy care has preserved my spirit. (Job)
The place where I grew up was strong and secure, it was bright and lovely. It was my home. It was the heart and mind of my mother. (A personal reflection)
Her children rise and call her blessed. (Proverbs) Thy care has preserved my spirit. (Job)
The place where I grew up was strong and secure, it was bright and lovely. It was my home. It was the heart and mind of my mother. (A personal reflection)
Behind The Art
Adventure
Years ago, I was doing an Arts and Crafts Show in Philadelphia on Mothers’ Day weekend. Since I wasn’t going to be with my mom to cook dinner or take her out, I wrote to her. The text on the right is an excerpt from my letter. As I wrote I thought about our times together. I thought about growing up on an isolated ranch in Northern California, camping, swimming, raising cattle, chopping wood, riding horses. I thought about the move a few years later to Guadalajara, where she registered my sister and me in a local, rather than the English speaking school. “You’ll learn Spanish faster,” our mom explained. I remembered our travels a few years later around Ireland, and the home we lived in near Kinsale Harbour in County Cork. I remembered being in Dublin with her, and the great dinner parties she organized. Actors, artists, writers, carpenters, house painters, musicians and students, all eating and drinking and talking for hours.
As the events and characters of the life we shared crowded together in my memory, I realized that it was not in a particular place, or city, or country that I had grown up. It was in the vision and courage and faith of my mother. That was my home, that was my adventure. —Michael