Awhile back Merce gave Abbey and I some dyed fleece to play with. I carded up some of the red fleece and was surprised how pink it became. I felted it onto the womb and got this:

A good background color yes. But it was way too cheerful looking. Meredith gave me some black fleece. I felted some of it onto the womb.

Side note-I’m struck by how many of my female friends have unknowingly donated to this piece. Here I am working on art about my toxic relationship with my mother and so many of my women friends have been helping me process, helping me heal. Thank you!

After adding the black fleece the phrase “toxic relationship” came to mind.

Our relationship has not been a healthy one. The more I work on this piece the more I realize my title is fitting. Through Our Pain We Know Love-that’s my mother and I’s relationship. When one of us was willing to show love, the other responded with indifference, dislike, meanness, harshness, emotional cruelty. We’re both guilty of it. There were happy moments but they were not the majority.

The majority of times my mother and I were symbolically butting heads. The older and more independent I became the worse our relationship got.

Unknowingly, my mother is the one who gave me the idea to move out at 18. I had said something flippant and pissed her off. I stomped off to my room and slammed my door. Shortly after, my mother stormed down the hallway, slammed my door open and started screaming at me. This was her god damned house and if I was going to live there I had to follow her rules. If I didn’t like it I could move the fuck out.

It felt like her anger was a hot tidal wave hitting me. But something occurred to me then-I didn’t like living there. I could move out.

A week after high school ended I moved out. She disowned me later that year.

Putting down the black fleece was not easy. The whole time I felt nauseous. My stomach was churning from start to finish. I had that funny little feeling in my throat that happens right before I throw up. But I didn’t want to stop. I had to work through it.

I was so convinced I was going to hurl that I decided I’d puke on the womb so I wouldn’t have to clean up the floor. How would I clean the womb? Would I just felt over it? I didn’t care at the time. I just had to get the black fleece down.

I lightly carded it and lightly felted it down. The womb now has a bumpy, uneven texture that fits so perfectly.

Thankfully, I didn’t puke. I finished with the black and felt exhausted. My whole body was tired, like I had been out hiking all day.

Prana was with me the whole time, lending his support. He laid across the womb and made it clear he would not me moved. I’d shift him around as I worked the fleece into the womb. Cats are amazing spiritual creatures.