Journal entry March 9 2003

We drove Grace to Espanola last night.  We wanted to, although Val was driving a car-load and she could have squished in with them Val says.  Really, that would not have been possible, it was Ruth's little red car and Val, Aiden, Chris, Christian were already in it.  We took Grace and 2 snowboards and would have taken everyone else too.  We left Grace with a whole lot of teens in Espanola at 2 am.  She'll be all right.

I have been quilting my peace quilt nearly constantly.  Still not done, but today will change that.  I can hardly wait to wash away the orange marker lines.  It is very disappointing however, as a product.  The pale colours and echo quilting do not stand out like I'd hoped.  I've begun some chain stitch embroidery to save it.  text is "each stitch is a prayer" repeated and the word Peace repeated and then embroidery on top of the quilting in the central pink diamond.  This last embroidery threatens to take me on another long road to complete the piece.

Yesterday, I listened to an entire book.  The Reader.  I ordered new sheets for our bed.  I've been reading the Wisdom of Menopause - just a few pages.  She sums up so well what happens to women's lives when they reach 50.  Children are grown and don't need the mother, and it seems like another world when I was truly so important before to my children.

April took off yesterday afternoon to go to Kristens and she is not looking forward to the school break without Grace.  She is in a bad mood about it.

Journal Entry December 12, 2001

I may have seen the constellation Cassiopeia last night as I drove home from Sudbury with the two girls, spent out after a day of shopping.  April had her scoliosis x-ray.  We saw a curve, her and I.

To do: 

Self portrait with Joyce Wieland 

Self portrait with Mary Pratt.

Self portrait with Betty Goodwin

Self portrait with Emily Carr

No other way to get into the picture of art masters

Self portrait with Dorothy Caldwell

Self portrait with Virginia Woolf

Self portrait with Emily Dickenson                    MOTHER ARTIST

Self portrait with Margaret Atwood.

Sorel Cohen  Montreal woman photographer.  “An extended andcontinuous Metaphor”  1983-1986

A large format photo series for which she posed, painted, photographed a series of herself in the role of artist mother housewife, in order to give expression to the movement of the female body in its daily tasks and concurrent role changes.  By positing and re-positioning herself in the work, Cohen examined the discursive intersections of female body, art history, viewer’s gaze.

She questions not only the presentation of the female body in art, but also the role of photography in art history.

millennium journal detail.  the day depicted in original code here is january 11, 2001

I would like to do some artwork about our society and how it is quite a jail.  If one enters it young and naïve. 

graduates from school with the idea I can do anything, 

and then marries – we can go anywhere

and then has kids – we should settle during school years and the dad works and mom stays home to look after the kids.

.......actually the only time that females can have a little space without feeling guilty........yet..... 

..still feel stupid when talking to people with jobs.

Because of that and because of a real need for double incomes in this world, women work at jobs, some do have fulfilling work, but some are artists who have to put that part of themselves aside.

“I wish I had 3 days off a week” a friend said says to me in Chapters.  Both of us are there on a Sunday Christmas shopping.  I was in Sudbury because of Grace’s swimming class.  I wonder what some people would do with 3 days off.

What do I do?  I ‘m trying to be an artist but the only way to prove that is to exhibit or/and sell.  Just doing the artwork itself is not enough.

That’s a hobby.

To find non-guilt time to create new work is getting harder for me as my children leave – not easier.  I find I have less time, not more, because I am forced to work at a job, or produce exhibitions.  

Dilemma – real guilt for not working in a real job and therefore always questioning if artwork is worth the financial sacrifice that kids and  husband suffer.