For the last two days I've been working on a piece that features a picture of my Grandparents when they were young and in love. In the photograph they are embraced in a kiss. While transferring the image I noticed something about the picture I hadn't noticed before: there's something on the bed - could be money or cigarettes. It's hard to read, but looks as though it's something that's been removed from my Grandfather's pocket and tossed carelessly on the bed. Despite its ambiguity (or perhaps because of it), it makes me wonder about their lives. Was my Grandfather a smoker? A drinker? Did my Grandmother drink back then also or did that come later? I wonder what kind of parents they were. A heavy hand of authority was much more common back in those days and I wonder if my Grandfather ever rose his hand to my mother's face or took a stick to my uncles' backsides, like my parents did with my sisters and me. Or maybe things were more peaceful because they were happily married with a purpose of giving their children a better life than they had.
I don't know much about my Grandfather's life because he died so long before I was born and my family isn't much for talking about the more difficult things in life - it's far easier to shove tough issues deep under the carpet. I know much more about my Grandmother's life: her mother died when she was about two years old and she was subsequently raised by her sisters who were, for the most part, first generation Americans of Norwegian descent. I don't know much about my Great-Aunts who raised my Gramma Willie, but I can't recall a single story about them being heavy-handed or drinkers. Which leads me to believe that my Gramma's abusive tendencies came in the aftermath of my Grandfather's death.
My Gramma was a drinker and a gambler. She wasn't into big-time gambling, but she loved the race track and scratch-offs. I wonder how much she spent and how much she used that vice as another form of escape. All of these questions so difficult to answer now that she's gone, too.
In this series I've been drawn to using old bingo cards and as I was working today I asked myself why. I think it's becuase to me they're symbolic of life. Everyone gets one - full of promise, like a clean slate. When the game starts there is the possibility you could be a big winner, a slight winner or a loser. It's all a matter of chance. The person next to you gets handed a card - same size, same color, same paper, same weight but with different numbers. And it's all about those numbers. I guess my Gramma got dealt an unlucky card. As children, my mother and her brothers inherited the same card. I guess my sisters and I played from those same cards for awhile, too. Untl we were old enough to get our own fresh cards. I hope they're winners.
In this series I've been drawn to using old bingo cards and as I was working today I asked myself why. I think it's becuase to me they're symbolic of life. Everyone gets one - full of promise, like a clean slate. When the game starts there is the possibility you could be a big winner, a slight winner or a loser. It's all a matter of chance. The person next to you gets handed a card - same size, same color, same paper, same weight but with different numbers. And it's all about those numbers. I guess my Gramma got dealt an unlucky card. As children, my mother and her brothers inherited the same card. I guess my sisters and I played from those same cards for awhile, too. Untl we were old enough to get our own fresh cards. I hope they're winners.
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