This is the last photograph of her and I.

She passed away, beautifully and peacefully, on the second of September.

This photograph was taken a week before she died, at the celebration we had for her 80th birthday. Everyone she loved, and who mattered to her, was there. Most people who came knew they wouldn't see her again, but it was a happy occassion all the same.

I didn't know when my lovely niece took this photograph what an important moment it was. I was only interested in kissing my Mum. She was so beautiful and sick and tired and fragile and strong that day.

I've been waiting for the right time to write about her here, and I haven't been able to write anything else until I did.

All of sudden it feels like time.

Tommorrow is three months and thirteen Saturdays since I stood beside my father and held her hand and smoothed her brow and watched her take her last gentle breath.

Yesterday I wrote an epic essay length post, which took me hours and which I then deleted. It wasn't right to share all those words here. I have been writing so much in my diary my hand hurts some mornings. But all of that will remain private. For me alone. Grief's like that, eh. You have to find a way through it yourself, no matter how much love you have around you.

Today I decided that instead of words, it feels right to me that my tribute to my Mum who I loved so deeply and who was there for me my entire life, is made up instead of this random series of pictures. They were never meant to be any kind of photo essay, but it feels right to me that they've come together - imperfectly and just because my heart says yes to the idea.

So here they are.

These photos are for you, Mum. This is how I've felt since you left. It hasn't all been sad. As you well know, life, thank christ, doesn't work that way.

On my road with my shadow, 30 August 2017

Mum's 80th birthday celebration, 26 August 2017

In my hallway with my favourite sweatshirt on, 31 August 2017 — In my hallway with my favourite sweatshirt on, 31 August 2017

Mum's jewellery, at rest in the drawer her grandfather made, 2 September 2017

In bed on the day after Mum's funeral. My 47th birthday.  6th September 2017 — In bed on the day after Mum's funeral. My 47th birthday. 6th September 2017

Delivering artwork and receiving kindness, 16 September 2017

Cows in the rain matching my mood, 7 October 2017

Doing what has to be done.  18 October 2017 — Doing what has to be done. 18 October 2017

Seth smiling with his old-boy snout, 20 October 2017

Sarjeant and tree from the car, in the rain, 31 October 2017

Beach for a difficult day, 7 November 2017

Boys doing what boys do, 11 November 2017

I wrote trust on my arm, 12 November 2017

Because you were there then and you're there now. And I love you.  For Louise. 17 November 2017 — Because you were there then and you're there now. And I love you. For Louise. 17 November 2017

I only realised later that the sign I was determined to walk to was C for Colleen, my mother's name. For Tania. 20 November 2017 — I only realised later that the sign I was determined to walk to was C for Colleen, my mother's name. For Tania. 20 November 2017

Me crying in the bathroom, 30 November 2017

Mum and me on the family wall in my kitchen, at rest in the warm light.  30 November 2017 — Mum and me on the family wall in my kitchen, at rest in the warm light. 30 November 2017

I can see a sky of the bluest bluest blue, from It's a kind of love song, for Mum, 2017

When I made this artwork, for the exhibition I had about you, Mum, I didn't write what I truly meant by it. It was too painful to write the words then.

I made this artwork imagining you gone.

Imagining you up there in the ether, free of pain, watching us all from a beautiful sky.

I wanted to pull this from the show; I disliked it because it hurt me to look at it. Right now today, I'm grateful I made this work for you to see. I suspect that all along you knew exactly what I meant. Right down deep, you always understood me perfectly.

I know you can see that sky, Mum. I know you're there.

You looked after all of us your whole life. You deserve a bit of blue.

Rest easy, and have some long lovely walks with Portia.

I love you.

January 2021
- 13 Jan 2021 SELF-PORTRAIT 13 JANUARY 2021 13 Jan 2021
November 2020
- 23 Nov 2020 Our rabbit, 2020 23 Nov 2020
September 2020
- 11 Sep 2020 LOVE ME A BIT OF FLUORO TUBING 11 Sep 2020
- 10 Sep 2020 I decided to accept as true my own thinking 10 Sep 2020
May 2020
- 10 May 2020 10 May 2020
- 4 May 2020 THE RAIN COMES DOWN 4 May 2020
April 2020
- 30 Apr 2020 STAR 30 Apr 2020
- 28 Apr 2020 THE DAY AFTER THE END // Day 34, 28 April 2020 28 Apr 2020
- 27 Apr 2020 TOGETHER // Day 33, 27 April 2020 27 Apr 2020
- 26 Apr 2020 NIGHTMARE // Day 32, 26 April 2020 26 Apr 2020
- 25 Apr 2020 I REMEMBER YOU // Day 31, 25 April 2020 25 Apr 2020
- 24 Apr 2020 CROSSROADS // Day 30, 24 April 2020 24 Apr 2020
- 23 Apr 2020 THE IMPORTANCE OF THINGS WE CANNOT SEE // Day 29, 23 April 2020 23 Apr 2020
- 22 Apr 2020 QUIETLY, AND IN THE MORNING // Day 28, 22 April 2020 22 Apr 2020
- 21 Apr 2020 X // Day 27, 21 April 2020 21 Apr 2020
- 20 Apr 2020 UNION // Day 26, 20 April 2020 20 Apr 2020
- 19 Apr 2020 SCRIBBLE // Day 25, 19 April 2020 19 Apr 2020
- 18 Apr 2020 I GOT HIGH // Day 24, 18 April 2020 18 Apr 2020
- 17 Apr 2020 BOX // Day 23, 17 April 2020 17 Apr 2020
- 16 Apr 2020 ME, MYSELF I // Day 22, 16 April 2020 16 Apr 2020
- 15 Apr 2020 I'M HOLDING ON FOR DEAR LIFE // Day 21, 15 April 2020 15 Apr 2020
- 14 Apr 2020 EVERYDAY SAVIOURS // Day 20, 14 April 2020 14 Apr 2020
- 13 Apr 2020 BESIDE YOU // Day 19, 13 April 2020 13 Apr 2020
- 12 Apr 2020 IT'S BEAUTIFUL HERE // Day 18, 12 April 2020 12 Apr 2020
- 11 Apr 2020 3,2,1 CONTACT // Day 17, 11 April 2020 11 Apr 2020
- 10 Apr 2020 SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL TO HOLD ON TO // Day 16, 10 April 2020 10 Apr 2020
- 9 Apr 2020 KINTSUGI // Day 15, 9 April 2020 9 Apr 2020
- 8 Apr 2020 LET GO // DAY 14 8 Apr 2020
- 7 Apr 2020 RETURN TO THE CENTRE // Day 13 7 Apr 2020
- 6 Apr 2020 BLUE PARENTHESES // Day 12 6 Apr 2020
- 5 Apr 2020 RE-IMAGINING // Day 11, 5 April 2020 5 Apr 2020
- 4 Apr 2020 AND SO TO BED // DAY 10, 4 April 2020 4 Apr 2020
- 3 Apr 2020 FOR THIS EVERYDAY LOVING // Day 9, 3 April 2020 3 Apr 2020
- 2 Apr 2020 BLOOD TANGLE // DAY 8, 2 APRIL 2020 2 Apr 2020
- 1 Apr 2020 WALKING THE LINE //. DAY 7, 1 APRIL 2020 1 Apr 2020
March 2020
- 31 Mar 2020 I WANTED TO TELL YOU // Day 6, 31 March 2020 31 Mar 2020
- 30 Mar 2020 HOME, DAY 5, 30th March 2020 30 Mar 2020
- 29 Mar 2020 NAVIGATION // Day 4, 29 March 2020 29 Mar 2020
- 28 Mar 2020 RED CROSS // Day 3, 28 March 2020 28 Mar 2020
- 27 Mar 2020 ONE DAY AT A TIME // Day 02, 27 March 2020 27 Mar 2020
- 26 Mar 2020 HERE THERE IS US // Day 01, 26 March 2020 26 Mar 2020
- 8 Mar 2020 The hope of my body 8 Mar 2020
September 2019
- 15 Sep 2019 Always to the stars, 2019 15 Sep 2019
- 12 Sep 2019 Tenderness [ballerina] 2019 12 Sep 2019
August 2018
- 2 Aug 2018 IN L AND B's UNFINISHED BEDROOM 2 Aug 2018
July 2018
- 19 Jul 2018 WHAT IS DEEP WITHIN US IS WRITTEN ALL OVER US 19 Jul 2018
- 18 Jul 2018 BOUQUET 18 Jul 2018
May 2018
- 10 May 2018 Sleep well, I am still here. 10 May 2018
- 8 May 2018 Doodles 8 May 2018
- 8 May 2018 Comfortable in my skin 8 May 2018
- 1 May 2018 The lovely boys, from a long time ago 1 May 2018
April 2018
- 28 Apr 2018 See ya later 28 Apr 2018
- 28 Apr 2018 A damn fine morning 28 Apr 2018
- 27 Apr 2018 A new perspective 27 Apr 2018
February 2018
- 25 Feb 2018 IT’S A KIND OF LOVE SONG, 2018 [for you, N] 25 Feb 2018
- 2 Feb 2018 A new season 2 Feb 2018
January 2018
- 28 Jan 2018 These are our days 28 Jan 2018
- 25 Jan 2018 Start from where you are 25 Jan 2018
- 20 Jan 2018 Aliveness 20 Jan 2018
December 2017
- 23 Dec 2017 I went for a walk and I heard a man singing 23 Dec 2017
- 18 Dec 2017 You me the sea 18 Dec 2017
- 17 Dec 2017 My favourite kind of day 17 Dec 2017
- 14 Dec 2017 Counterpoint 14 Dec 2017
- 14 Dec 2017 Gaps and distance 14 Dec 2017
- 12 Dec 2017 These red threads they tie us so beautifully 12 Dec 2017
- 11 Dec 2017 It's a dog's life 11 Dec 2017
- 10 Dec 2017 This too will pass 10 Dec 2017
- 9 Dec 2017 Taking it all down 9 Dec 2017
- 8 Dec 2017 Tie a yellow ribbon 8 Dec 2017
- 7 Dec 2017 Such a beautiful dream 7 Dec 2017
- 6 Dec 2017 This is what I hold on to 6 Dec 2017
- 1 Dec 2017 In loving memory 1 Dec 2017