I’m very excited!
I nearly finished my first collection of comic-art, called “The First One”.
It will feature some of my latest work and projects:
- The Search For Dolores
- Project – M
More information will follow soon!
I’m super excited to be part of the Dalston Open Studios on 08th September!
Come see my art and the artwork by the talented Laura Melissa Williams:
No matter how gloomy your thoughts…your heart will always send inspiration to shift the vibrations…your heart ALWAYS has your back…just listen…! ❤
Who is Dolores?
Will they ever find her?
The story continues!
The Search For Dolores – story will be shown at the Dalston Open Studios Day on Saturday 8th September! More information will follow!
WorryBoy has been a part of my life for a long while and in the last 2 years more so than ever! I’ve seen WorryBoy change from an idea to represent my own history with depression to a visual story, an exhibition, a school program, a graphic novel in the making and now also a fun workshop at Free Space Health Centre!
I am always blown away by the creative thinking of kids and their comics were all as unique as they themselves were. I had the best time and am looking forward to the second workshop on Wednesday 22nd August!
For more information: http://freespaceproject.org/whatson/
For more information about everything WorryBoy: www.WorryBoy.com
I’ve been working on a graphic novel telling my mum’s story. At the moment I am letting memories flow and eventually I will put them together. I realised this story is not just about my mum’s illness and her choice to end her life by means of Euthanasia. It is also about my relationship with her. Her illness is closely linked with my history with depression. It is a story of pure love and emotional chaos.
But it is not all serious! My mum was a wonderful, warm-hearted and passionate woman…with her own special way of dealing with toddler problems; I used to break my grandmother’s cigarettes, which were always in a glass jar on her table. To be fair, it must feel incredibly satisfying to break a cigarette, I can just imagine it now…and I always like to think that in my innocence I was trying to tell my Oma that this was an unhealthy habit and she should just stop it 😉
One day my mum told me to put one of the cigarettes in my mouth and she lit it, instructing me to inhale deeply. “En nu heel diep inademen.”
She’d told me that for a moment she feared she’d actually killed me but luckily I managed to breathe again…eventually!
I’ve never touched a cigarette since. I never even smoked, though there were other factors that played a part in my teenage years why I didn’t choose to smoke. Still, being nearly choked to death by cigarette smoke undoubtedly played a big part!
The joys of 1970’s parenting! 😉
This painting is nearly finished, am adding some details. I have no idea where the story is leading to. I’m just following Flow and Rosado ….hopefully they’ll find Dolores 😉
In May it’ll be a year since my mum passed. Overall I’ve been able to talk about it quite well and art has been my saving grace. But I often avoid talking about euthanasia. My mum chose to die.
I rarely talk about it.
I’m afraid people might judge or say stupid things. But talking about it is important. It is a controversial subject and brings up all sorts of beliefs about life and death.
It comes down to respecting the choices the person you love has made. Honouring an other person’s view.
I found it difficult but fully supported my mum’s decision. And the alternative wasn’t really an option either.
I did wish my mum would go on her own before the gp would arrive. The day and night before she was already with one foot on the other side. I told her it was okay to let go.
Having a date with death at precisely 1.30pm is tough. As much as I wanted to stretch out the days before to have as much time with her as possible, that early afternoon the minutes dragged and I just sat with this heaviness in me, dreading that very last goodbye, wishing it to be over and at the same time not.
My mum choose her ending. After a life of pain all she wanted was rest and see her mum, oma.
It suited her. Being in charge to the last second. And I love her for that.
The GP was a wonderful man and the nurse who came daily was a blessing.
In all the heavy emotions it was a beautiful goodbye filled with love.
She died holding my hand, on her way to oma 💖