Mom

I was reading a Mothers Day blog post today that had me thinking. As you all know by now thinking is not always a good thing for me to be doing. But I could so relate to this girl because her mom had died of cancer at a young age.

I owe my mom so much. She was the first one to see something special behind my dark eyes. She would drag me around Philadelphia museums when I was barely old enough to walk. She was the first one to stick my fingers in paint, which was something that ended in quite a mess if I remember it correctly. And the first one to take me to wander the streets of New York and to visit MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) which was one of her favorite places in the world. She always praised my art but was also never afraid to criticize it.

When, as a teenager, I suddenly informed my parents I was gay she just hugged me and went about her business like I hadn’t just changed her life forever. From than on I knew I would be fine. She was the one who, in my rebellious high school years, kept me grounded when things could have gone so wrong.

She was always there for me until one day she wasn’t.

Everything I’ll ever be as an artist I owe to my mom and every time I look at a painting I wonder what she would have thought of it. Every day I wish I could thank her somehow.

I’ll leave you with a very fitting quote from the blog I read.

“This mother’s day be sure to tell them how much you care for all they have done for you, for you may never get another chance. Learn about their lives and you may learn something about yourself.” Miss Destructo

tuneage, one of mom's favs