Tempest

The emotional storm I experienced while watching my terminally ill mother deteriorate at my home in her last months was often overwhelming, so I suppressed my emotions by plunging into the daily job of nursing her. I became good at doing without feeling. As the months progressed my physical reserves dwindled and waves of frustration and resentment towards my mother were predominant. I was not able to look after myself- I needed looking after- I wanted my mother. But she was the cause of this pain and the only way I was going to experience relief is when she passed away. I felt trapped. I was furious. Around the same time I felt strongly compelled to sculpt my niece’s angry tantrum face. I could very much relate to her indignation towards the injustice of the world. I blocked out the basic shapes by letting loose the tempest of anger and frustration. The release made me weep. I realized that hiding underneath the raging tempest was just a sad little, lonely girl.