Crafting Chaos

Frogging my Mother’s work: yarn clown

June 9th, 2009

I had been working on my woowoo exercises for a few weeks when I decided to call my Mother. Normally when I call my Dad she answers the phone and doesn’t acknowledge me as her daughter. I identify myself and ask politely to talk to my Dad. She always gets a cold, disapproving tone in her voice as she tells me to hold on or that he’s not home.

Since she also has Endometriosis I worked up the courage to call my parents, hoping she would answer. Though I’m an adult I still find it difficult to talk to her. That coldness in her voice makes me feel 12 and unloved. But if my Mother could answer some questions about how Endo affected her it might give me some insight on how it affects me.

I called and my Dad answered. This was a surprise because my Mother almost always answers the phone. Turns out he just got downsized and decided to begin his retirement. I ended up asking him about my Mother’s Endo. He told me her doctor had said it was the worst case of Endo he had ever seen. He confirmed that she got her hysterectomy in her early 30s like I had suspected.

During the conversation he asked me if I’d like my baby pictures and mementos. This took my completely by surprise. I said sure if he didn’t want them and my voice got a little shaky. He told me he was keeping some of the photos but that my Mother was doing spring cleaning and wanted to get rid of them.

That is so typical of my Mother. I moved out when I was 18 and she just now decides there’s no room for them. A week later I got two boxes. I instantly recognized my Dad’s handwriting which pulled at my heartstrings.

That was nothing compared to the steam truck of emotions that hit me when I opened them up. First I opened the photo box and saw a ton of old photos. There was a picture of my Mother pregnant with me I’d never seen before. There were pictures of her holding me as a baby with a smile on her face. That was weird. I bawled like a baby. The bed was littered with piles of used kleenex. The photo that really got to me was the one at the end. It was a photo of Thebes and I’s wedding. There had been more but I think my Dad took them out to keep. But the fact that he put them in the photo album at all was so tear inducing.

The emotions were pretty intense. But I figured it was best to do it all at once. I opened the baby memento box. There were a ton of things in there-my first Kermit doll, some baby clothes, school records and handmade items. My mother is a crocheter. She made me several items items when I was little.

When I opened the box I knew what I was going to do. Some of the handmade items are going to be put into the mother art piece. Now I’m not frogging all of her work. There are some baby clothes that I’m going to keep for mementos sake.

I’m actually not frogging much-a yarn clown, baby outfit and baby blanket.

First up is the yarn clown. My Mother collected clown art and figurines. I’ve never liked clowns; they creep me out. Go figure.

All of the handmade baby items are made out of acrylic yarn. It doesn’t feel great but this was back in the 70s so it makes sense. The smell is familiar though. The whole box had smells that triggered memories.

Her stitches are very uniform. What surprises me is that she didn’t weave in her yarn ends. Instead she cut the yarn very close to the knot. Her favorite color is red; red is one of my least favorite.

When I took the clown head off I saw “79″ written on the inside. Could it stand for 1979, the year she made it? I would have been three.

After frogging the yarn I put it through my ball winder:

While frogging the clown my forearms were sore as if I had been lifting something heavy all day. I would put it down and feel fine. But then I’d start frogging again and my arms would again feel sore. It’s not surprising that I’m having reactions like this but it still feels weird.

Entry Filed under: Art