Oil On Canvas
3'x4'
1999

This was the final piece in the series I did. This piece is about my mother. The larger figure is simultaneously giving birth, suckling and killing it's child. My mother actually told me a few times that she wished I was dead and that she wished I was never born. She tried to kill me and herself and some of my other siblings. I don't know now how much of it was a cry for help, or a genuine feeling that she would be better off dead. I know that drugs played a part in it. She also beat me severely quite a few times, black and blue, and had protective services ever been called, I'm positive we would have been taken away from her. There was also verbal abuse as well, which I think hurt the most of all. So, here's the final painting...a monster giving birth to a monster and trying to do away with it.

To put a less negative spin on the story, my mother is a completely different person today than she was when I was a child. She's stable, friendly and loving...not that she couldn't be all those things when I was growing up, but her mood swings at the time were very dark and violent, and scary to those who loved her. This painting got into a show at a local gallery a few years ago and my mom ended up going to see it, she was understandably upset, she never remembered saying that to me. I've since forgiven my mom for the things that happened, as well as forgiving the other women in my life, including my molester, who have hurt me. It took a lot to do this, and I don't think I'm anyone special for doing it, but forgiving them to their face was much easier than living with the alternative...being full of rage, self loathing, despair and revulsion. It feels much better to let go of it all and have it off your chest.

When I was a child, my favorite book was Where The Wild Things Are. I loved monsters, and loved drawing them even more. I thought they were so cool, so big and mean and scary. I still do love monsters, I still draw monsters and things that are monstrous, but I realize that the internal ones can slowly kill you and eat away at your insides. Silence kills, silence feeds the monsters inside. Growing up, I never had any counseling that dealt with being beaten, abused, molested, whatever, and my family never talked about it, even though they knew about it. I grew up with monstrously proportioned secrets, but I never talked about it with anyone. I probably should have seen some professional help, but I never did, instead I drew, I wrote poetry, I wrote stories...many of the things were twisted and grotesque, maybe it was my own simple way of trying to express what I had inside.

This series is a continuation, almost a culmination, of that. It's a type of self-psychoanalysis I think. When I finished these pieces in college, I had to give a 20 minute speech (with slides) for a class in front of people I hardly knew and tell them the true inspiration for my artwork. So, I did it, and it was cathartic. I think getting it out in the open was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I was scared of becoming the abuser, the molester, the misogynistic bastard that I could have been, but now I'm a better person for what I've gone through, and I don't hold on to that hate, or any of that bullshit anymore.

That's my message for you, if you've bothered to read about this series. It's a new year, let it go, don't hold on to your grudges, try to forgive even if the other person doesn't seem worthy of it. Stop feeding the monsters inside. Fight the silence.

Peace and love,

Ward