AMY MEISSNER
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Of monsters.

6/28/2015

19 Comments

 
"Yes, Mother. I can see you are flawed. You have not hidden it. That is your greatest gift to me."
          Alice Walker

In winter, in darkness, I sometimes pull my feet onto the bed swiftly. I feel the swipe of a hand just missing my heel, the blood flooding my heart despite the unfounded fear that something is lurking and hidden beneath where I sleep.

Summer is different.
We see the monsters, sharp in the light.

Amy Meissner, textile artist. From the post Of monsters. www.amymeissner.com/blog/of-monsters

Anchorage, Alaska.
Sunrise, 4:24 am. Sunset, 11:41 pm. A total of 19 hours and 17 minutes of daylight. A loss of 1 minute and 11 seconds from yesterday. 

The sun is persistent and we do not sleep.

Amy Meissner, textile artist. From the post Of monsters. www.amymeissner.com/blog/of-monsters

A recent morning, this exhausted petty thing:

9-year-old boy, with sweeping gesture: "You aren't taking enough care with my breakfast."
Me: " ... ?"
9-year-old boy, with the gestures: "Your plate always has extra stuff on it."
Me: "Uh huh, like last night's brussels sprouts and kim-chi? Or maybe you're referring to the dietary fiber I'm sprinkling on my eggs."
9-year-old boy, with glassy eyes: "No ... you're food just looks nicer. You make it look nicer. Just for YOU."
Me: " ... "
6-year-old girl, turning to boy: "You're being mean to Mom."
6-year-old girl, turning to me: "I don't want fried eggs, I only like poached. Don't make me fried because I won't eat them."

I do not feel like defining the term "short order cook." I do not feel like cooking. I do not feel like eating. I do not feel like feeding these children. I do not feel like chasing after the stomping 9-year-old. I do not feel like resuming the school-morning breakfast schedule (M,W = oatmeal, T, Th = eggs, F = cereal). I do not feel like rinsing dishes. I do not feel that cold cereal every morning is the answer. I do not feel like being here. I do not feel like deciphering baby talk. I do not feel like being angry about this. I do not feel like being honest. I do not feel like I'm cut out to be a mother, the tipping point a god-damned plate of food. I do not feel like feeling all of this.

My creative work has stalled and I'm snapping and swiping at heels.
There is no satisfaction in my clawed-for bursts of production, in this hunt for artistic clarity, in what feels so selfish on my part. Time.

Tomorrow it could all just disappear. It has for other mothers.
I know this.
I fear this.

Amy Meissner, textile artist. From the post Of monsters. www.amymeissner.com/blog/of-monsters
Amy Meissner, textile artist. From the post Of monsters. www.amymeissner.com/blog/of-monsters
Amy Meissner, textile artist. From the post Of monsters. www.amymeissner.com/blog/of-monsters

I lose my mind to darkness. I lose my mind to light.
Every year, twice a year.
Here, in this northern place.
I know this.

Monsters hidden.

Amy Meissner, textile artist. From the post Of monsters. www.amymeissner.com/blog/of-monsters

Monsters revealed.

Amy Meissner, textile artist. From the post Of monsters. www.amymeissner.com/blog/of-monsters

Leviathans surfacing.

Amy Meissner, textile artist. From the post Of monsters. www.amymeissner.com/blog/of-monsters

Time, measured in minutes and seconds, slips away.
Here.
I know this.

It doesn't make it easier. I am a mother, a woman, with flaws.


Related posts: "Into darkness" & "Soul fever."


19 Comments
Christine Byl
6/28/2015 03:28:18 am

And therein lies...everything.
Thank you for being the urgent candor in my morning reading today.
xox
CB

Reply
Amy Meissner link
6/28/2015 11:36:41 am

Christine,
Henceforth, I prefer the title "Urgent Candor" to "Mean Mom." I will request the name change immediately. I'm very pleased to have been someone's morning reading.
XO
Amy

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Mo Crow link
6/28/2015 04:13:10 am

naming the monsters...

Reply
Amy Meissner link
6/28/2015 11:37:49 am

Mo,
There's power in naming that which terrifies us.
XO
Amy

Reply
Mo Crow link
6/30/2015 01:56:36 am

from experience naming the monsters amuses and encourages them to shapeshift into new ways to scare me but that's cool I do enjoy the shiver in getting scared

Roxanne Lasky link
6/28/2015 06:58:02 am

Amy,
You are tired. You have accomplished much. Rest in the valley between the high ground. Your work will echo across the hills for the while.
And children (even 29-and 33-year-old children) will always challenge us, even though they love you and accept you for who you are - even though you would lay down and die for any one of them or get up and make eggs for them - they will never stop pulling the poetry out of us- in any light!

Reply
Amy Meissner link
6/28/2015 11:42:24 am

Roxanne,
What a lovely image you've provided of hills and valleys and threads of poetry being drawn across it all -- thank you for this.
XO
Amy

Reply
Shenandoah herda link
6/28/2015 08:50:36 am

Can I save up and buy this one?! Love it - I always think to myself, will this be cute at 16, or if my mum was standing next to me? If not, I know I have to do something - unfortunately - too often!

Reply
Amy Meissner link
6/28/2015 11:45:04 am

Shannon,
Thank you for the support (always!) and yes, I'm getting glimpses of the teenagers they may become ... the teenager I very much was. Pay back.
XO
Amy

Reply
kate link
6/28/2015 06:02:06 pm

I hear you! (my morning mantra has a slightly coarser last word). I have no words of wisdom, just a bit of morning empathy ... X

Reply
Amy Meissner link
6/28/2015 11:55:27 pm

Kate,
You mean you aren't sharing your coarse British word? I'm ready to try it out, just in my head, of course.
XO
Amy

Reply
kate
6/29/2015 04:27:52 am

Colloquial "excrement" with a long rather than short "i", ending with an emphasis on the "t". Enjoy! X

Lorie McCown link
6/28/2015 11:08:00 pm

Ya~got it. Post show thingy~this ebb and flow of the juice is a biggie..it's still there, just simmering a bit.. I'd take Roxanne's advice. And oh, yeah, teens..heh heh...

Reply
Amy Meissner link
6/29/2015 12:03:37 am

Lorie,
That last "heh heh" is added with such glee! Help me now.
It IS a post show issue and while that's been in the back of my mind I've been so focussed on the perfect storm in front of me I failed to see that particular rogue wave. Thanks for putting it perspective. Awesome. Now I feel even more shallow.

And when was it that we were getting together for drinks? Oh wait, I'd need a babysitter. I know! YOUR kids!

XO
Amy

Reply
velma
6/29/2015 07:48:33 pm

well, of all this, and yes, we artist moms all know it, those wonderful sea critters in your kid's hands move me. you will always know those hands.

Reply
helen link
7/1/2015 03:50:39 am

Thankyou as always for your post, you write with such clarity and insight.

I've been trying to imagine living with days of so much light, then swinging back to nights that last all day... and really, I think it would make me much more crazy than you sound! I think you should be kinder to yourself... you've just had an amazing first solo exhibition, and now you need a little pause, while everything rearranges itself, and the new work will be there without forcing it.

And as the sun swings back, everyone will be saner for a while.

Helen

Reply
Amy Meissner link
7/1/2015 10:41:24 am

Helen,
Thank you for your kind words of wisdom ... spoken by an artist. Things have already begun to rearrange themselves this week (not tidily, but, anyway). Looking forward to some more sane days ahead.

XO
Amy

Reply
Ingrid
7/2/2015 06:43:56 am

I raised a daughter with flaws? Impossible task.

Reply
Michelle
7/6/2015 02:25:29 am

Amy...I can so relate. Your honesty, as always, is refreshing (for lack of a better word) and cause for much self examination. Thank you!

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    Amy Meissner, textile artist. Photo credit Brian Adams, 2013. www.amymeissner.com

    Amy Meissner

    Artist in Anchorage, Alaska, sometimes blogging about the collision of history, family & art, with the understanding that none exists without the other.

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