It's been a while since I've posted an entry here! The Madonna and Child Project has been completed, exhibited a few times, and continues to inspire people to blog about it, and even Motherhood Magazine to share my images. My long term goal however has yet to be realized. Ever since I started the first portraits five years ago I had hoped to make a book from the Madonna and Child Project. Each duo are actually a mother and child pair with a birth story. I chose these pairs partly based on the birth story involved, hoping to involve stories that reflect all kinds of different perspectives on motherhood. Each mother comes from a different walk of life with her own outlook and her own experiences to relate. From unassisted home birth to c- section, each mother has her own story. Some were moving to the point of tears- there are a few I still cannot read without crying. Some are hilarious and actually make me laugh to read them. I feel I owe it not only to myself but to the mothers who contributed to see this project through. I need to publish this as a book. First I attempted the conventional routes- I approached publishers all over and tried to sell them the project. I got a lot of wonderful feedback, but none were willing to take the risk and invest in my book. So... I decided to go the route of self- publishing. I investigated self publishing companies such as Trafford Books and decided I need to gather the funds to make this happen. So now I'm asking you all to contribute and help me see this project through! I am getting professional photographer Vic Kirby to take beautiful photos of the original work, so every page will be rich in colour and depth. The resulting book will also have the help of layout professionals to make it really nop notch.
I'm asking for a minimum contribution of $10.00, but anything you can afford is welcome. For contributions of $50.00 and over I will send a print of one of the portraits. Anything over $200.00 and I will send you a large 11" by 16" giclee print, signed by the artist. Thank you so much! I will update you as contributions increase and let you know how it goes!
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So, as many of you might already know... I joined roller derby. I've joined The Dodge City Rollers, an enthusiastic rookie team here in Cumberland BC. I've since become a little obsessed, promoting roller derby, watching roller derby, even making roller derby art like the picture below: I haven't given up on the Madonna and Child Project, in fact I may have a roller derby madonna to add to the lineup, but I'm just finding I have some new interests in my life. It's been quite a revelation that my body is still capable of something so physical. Childbirth took such a toll on my body and my energy levels that I almost felt like I would never get my old athletic body back. I felt like that was ok- I was willing to make that sacrifice for my kids, I was willing to give up my body for the bodies of my children. What a revelation to realize I don't have to make that choice! It's been amazing to realize that I can sometimes make myself a priority, to make sure I have a life outside of my children. Here are some before and after photos of my progress. I have not lost much weight mind you, because I'm building a lot of muscle, but I've lost a lot of belly fat. If this doesn't inspire you to join roller derby I don't know what will. This photo is from April 5th, when I was already feeling pretty good about my progress. This is April 15th- only 10 days later. Maybe my bikini days aren't over after all! So... if you ever wonder about pursuing your own interests, putting yourself first occasionally... if you ever feel guilty like I did for wanting to spend a little time away from your kids... just do it. I find I have so much more patience, so much more joy to offer my kids since I started taking care of myself. If roller derby hasn't saved my soul it at least saved my sanity! "KATE my DARLING! You look RADIANT! ARE YOU WITH CHILD??" Upon hearing these words I froze... uncertain of what to do next. Do I scream? Do I melt into the floor in embarrassment? Do I fling my drink at the assailant, or do I run away? You see... I am not pregnant... I only LOOK pregnant. I was first inspired to write this blog after reading "No, I'm Not Pregnant," by Breastfeeding Moms Unite. I was somewhat gratified to know I wasn't the only one. That day had actually started out beautifully. I had woken up in a gorgeous hotel room with downy sheets, my kids next to me, and started the day by staring at the ocean from out balcony. We were attending a wedding in Uclulet, and it is a rare treat for us to stay in a hotel, never mind one with such a view. I was wearing perfume, a dress, even makeup, which is highly unusual for me as the mother of two little kids. I actually had to go out and BUY some makeup especially for the occasion, that's how seldom I wear it anymore. I felt... dare I say it... pretty. The wedding itself was on the beach. It was a reunion of sorts, since I had known the bride and groom since high school, as well as many of the guests. It was misty and cold by the water, so I put sweatpants under my daughter's dress and sweaters over their fancy clothes. They looked like gypsies on the shore, rag tag and blowing in the wind. It was a Jewish ceremony, complete with Chuppa, or bridal canopy, and the breaking of the glass. The couple both work in film and theatre, and their friends are an eclectic group of beautiful people; not an ounce of fat anywhere to be seen. My husband wasn’t with me, he has been working away from home, so I felt somewhat lonely, and very much the Earth Mother with kids attached to me every which way. It was later, at the reception, that I was approached by the father of the bride. I was holding a champagne glass, somewhat exhausted from the hike to and from the beach, and glad of the bubbly. “KATE, my darling! You look RADIANT! ARE YOU WITH CHILD??” First it must be said that the bride’s father is known for being eccentric. He’s a brilliant filmmaker, highly respected, funny, engaging and well loved by all. I am actually very fond of him myself. So what did I do? I laughed. I said, “No, I’m just a bit fat still, that’s all.” I swallowed. I turned red. I waited for him to turn red. He smiled at me warmly, patted me on the shoulder and moved on. By then I was feeling decidedly fat. We were seated in a banquet room. I learned that in the time it took for me to give birth to my two gorgeous children a friend of mine had trained to become quite a talented dancer. I should mention he also has two kids. Watching him move through the crowd, loping here and there like a teenage gazelle I have to admit to feeling MORE than a twinge of jealousy for the male condition. To experience the joys and trials of parenthood and yet maintain an unchanged physique must be pretty wonderful. If men are the ball point pens of parenthood then women are the charcoal. We smudge against the paper in the act of creating, changing our bodies and carving a new shape out of ourselves. We grow large, spidery veins appear, stretch marks like frost against the windowpane. We give birth, our bellies grow slack, our breasts engorge. We breastfeed, our breasts bruised and swollen, changed forever from what we remember. We mother with our whole bodies, like charcoal against a page, moving this way and that to create a better line, and in the process find our bodies indelibly altered. Someone came around to offer wine, and as I lifted my glass I was startled to realize it was the father of the bride. He looked at me and said “None for you! No more wine for you!” I felt redness creep up on my face once again. He smiled, and I realized he must be going deaf. He hadn’t heard me tell him I wasn’t pregnant, and I was permanently assigned the label of Pregnant Guest for the rest of the evening. I was tempted to avoid him for the rest of the night. I was tempted to take a glass of wine to the bathroom so I could enjoy it in peace. I had my two kids in tow, so of course any avoidance tactics would be quite ridiculous, as well as impossible. My kids were growing tired of the speeches, so I decided to take them outside. My son gathered pine cones and brought them back to me. He climbed a bench and leaped off, holding his arms out like wings. My daughter clung to my skirt, laughing and crowing at her brother. I felt the effects of the champagne, as well as my shame, evaporate into the night air. Soon we were lying together in a heap on the hotel bed. “Oop! Belly!” my daughter said as she pulled up my shirt exposing my mid section. She patted my belly with satisfaction and then pulled up her own shirt, patting her own belly. I felt a kind of joy that was almost tangible, a kind of love that came from my whole body. I realized that motherhood has indeed permanently changed me. On my facebook site I asked the question: "Have you ever been mistaken for PREGNANT when you're NOT? Tell me about it! What did you do/say?" I got 29 responses in only 12 hours. A common retort was "Not pregnant, just fat." Jaime used the term: "just leftovers from the last one." Toni Lee said: "I grew eight babies there, I've earned my belly." Diane said: "An aquaintance mistook my chubby belly for a baby bump and started stroaking it!" A few people mentioned fertility issues, miscarriage etc, which made the pregnancy comments especially painful. What are your stories? Have you ever been assumed pregnant when not? Please share in the comments section! This blog entry was written for inclusion in The Leaky Boob World Breastfeeding Week 2010 blog carnival: "Perspectives: Breastfeeding from Every Angle" My first experience of breastfeeding was when I first nursed my son in the hospital after my caesarean. His tiny head, swollen and mishapen after spending two days wedged against my cervix, his tiny hands almost like an old person's hands after living underwater for so long, his face was wise as only newborns and the elderly are. It was a moment of wonder, and pain, and joy. I was aching after surgery. I nursed him in the football hold, his body on one side to avoid hurting my incision. The suction caused my uterus to contract, both a painful and a wonderful feeling of release, emotional and physical. I had spent a few years in a state of yearning for that moment. I had suffered several miscarriages and a molar pregnancy, I had felt for so long as though my body were the enemy, as though my body could betray me at any moment. The moment I nursed my son everything changed; suddenly my body was my friend, my breasts were competent and friendly, my baby was beautiful. As a small breasted women I've also always felt somewhat sub-par, a little less than a real woman. The moment my new baby latched on all those feelings of inadequacy disappeared too. I felt about as womanly as I could possibly feel, overflowing with joy and bliss and sensuality in the purest sense.
It was that moment that I decided to start The Madonna and Child Project I hadn't fully formulated my concept at that point, but I wanted to express the joy and awe I felt as a new mother, and I could think of no better form than the classical Madonna and Child theme. As an artist and a mother I've had to struggle to balance both worlds. There were times when I actually continued to breastfeed my child as I completed my projects- a true case of art imitating life! Sometimes I felt frustrated and harried as every mother does when trying to balance work and life, and sometimes I've felt guilty for wanting to do art when my children need me more. Most of the time I find my work and my children are symbiotic to each other- they relate so closely to each other that I have trouble separating the two. My experiences as a mother inform my artwork, and I think my artwork contributes to my experiences as a mother in turn. Not every moment was magical of course. I had days in which my breasts were aching and engorged and every item of clothing I owned was stained with breastmilk. My sheets were soaked at night, and I struggled with feelings of irritation or disgust at my own wonderfully productive body. Then there were other moments in which I would feel the most overwhelming love while nursing. I remember specifically nursing my daughter in bed while she was only a few days old... thinking... no FEELING with my whole body "I love you!" People explain that rush as a release of oxytocin and other hormones, but I prefer to believe that it's something more than that. It felt almost like I was experiencing something transcedent, something of the divine- God if you will. I think there is just a touch of the divine involved in the best parts of motherhood. For some that involves bathing a child, looking into their eyes and hearing their laughter. For me that also involved nursing, and that is what I have attempted to express through my art. |
A blog on art, roller derby and life.
Kate HansenI'm an artist and mother of two in Courtenay, BC. I've completed a project called the "Madonna and Child Project," and I'm now working on a series of roller derby inspired drawings. In my spare time I play roller derby with the Brick House Betties. Archives
November 2012
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