"Father Time"
After dad passed on 01/01/25 I made 4 drawings in January.
They were all based around grief and mourning.
This is perhaps the most literal interpretation of mortality. The deep red of the clock face harks back to the colour of the sky in my first piece. Intense emotion, amidst confusion and a deep introspection.
The skull is structured, almost architectural. It holds the clock in place within its jaw. Above it is a tarnished halo. Less sainthood, more a burden. The emotional difficulties we had in expressing to one another. Many things left unsaid and not understood. And yet there isn't regret or feelings like more should have been done - which I know is a common thought when someone passes; regret that more wasn't done.
The perspective of the watch is to show the distortion of time when grieving. Along with this supposedly being a pocket watch, but being exaggerated to the point it seems colossal. Impossible to carry and inescapable. Death is certain - and that burden of reality can be too heavy at times - especially if you're prone to deep thinking and isolation throughout life.
The watch face leans forward to the viewer. It interrupts the jawline of the skeleton. The mouth is the hinge of the watch. Throughout all my adult life I've had an overbearing fixation on time, and anxiety around it. All hinges upon time - even though I accept that linear time is merely a camouflage of this physical plane.
The void is prevalent in this piece, moreso than other pieces. The fact I include the void in most of my work shows the constant struggle with mental health. I see you. You are part of this, and I shan't pretend you're not here.
As my mum has repeatedly said, she doesn't like asking me when I'm down - as she assumes she'll make it worse. So it all goes unsaid, and my mental health is bottled up around her, along with the usual Neurodivergent masking I perform daily. With so much left unsaid - the desire to display it in art is a craving that will never be satiated. Because I feel unheard - a damaging core belief I carry.
The composition of the orbs almost seem like rosary beads - prayer? Counting time? Asking for guidance? The fact these "beads" contain The Black also signifies my struggle with pursuing clairvoyant abilities with my mentor, and highlights struggles I have in understanding or maintaining a healthy relationship with my mother. The death of my father only further exacerbated the questions and complexities around our relationship.
"The Black" in my work is not just for aesthetics. It is my anchor. It is honest, albeit unpleasant. It's why at a moments notice something might prick it with a needle, and I end up in tears. Unresolved and unheard trauma that replays time and again. Misunderstood, yet trying to make itself known.
Something I hope to heal, and yet it feels as unwieldyand infinite as the overbearing clock facein this drawing.
Whilst I'm in a better place whereby I've been able to help other people for years - the void is something I don't quite know how to handle. And having pursued sobriety for years, the call of "The Black" often feels all the more harrowing, as I cannot hide away from it - and it follows me along every path I go; feeling as if, at any moment it will swallow up the ground beneath my feet - and take me into the void.
“Time itself is not; it arises only from the future’s anxiety and the past’s return.”
Ed
After dad passed on 01/01/25 I made 4 drawings in January.
They were all based around grief and mourning.
This is perhaps the most literal interpretation of mortality. The deep red of the clock face harks back to the colour of the sky in my first piece. Intense emotion, amidst confusion and a deep introspection.
The skull is structured, almost architectural. It holds the clock in place within its jaw. Above it is a tarnished halo. Less sainthood, more a burden. The emotional difficulties we had in expressing to one another. Many things left unsaid and not understood. And yet there isn't regret or feelings like more should have been done - which I know is a common thought when someone passes; regret that more wasn't done.
The perspective of the watch is to show the distortion of time when grieving. Along with this supposedly being a pocket watch, but being exaggerated to the point it seems colossal. Impossible to carry and inescapable. Death is certain - and that burden of reality can be too heavy at times - especially if you're prone to deep thinking and isolation throughout life.
The watch face leans forward to the viewer. It interrupts the jawline of the skeleton. The mouth is the hinge of the watch. Throughout all my adult life I've had an overbearing fixation on time, and anxiety around it. All hinges upon time - even though I accept that linear time is merely a camouflage of this physical plane.
The void is prevalent in this piece, moreso than other pieces. The fact I include the void in most of my work shows the constant struggle with mental health. I see you. You are part of this, and I shan't pretend you're not here.
As my mum has repeatedly said, she doesn't like asking me when I'm down - as she assumes she'll make it worse. So it all goes unsaid, and my mental health is bottled up around her, along with the usual Neurodivergent masking I perform daily. With so much left unsaid - the desire to display it in art is a craving that will never be satiated. Because I feel unheard - a damaging core belief I carry.
The composition of the orbs almost seem like rosary beads - prayer? Counting time? Asking for guidance? The fact these "beads" contain The Black also signifies my struggle with pursuing clairvoyant abilities with my mentor, and highlights struggles I have in understanding or maintaining a healthy relationship with my mother. The death of my father only further exacerbated the questions and complexities around our relationship.
"The Black" in my work is not just for aesthetics. It is my anchor. It is honest, albeit unpleasant. It's why at a moments notice something might prick it with a needle, and I end up in tears. Unresolved and unheard trauma that replays time and again. Misunderstood, yet trying to make itself known.
Something I hope to heal, and yet it feels as unwieldyand infinite as the overbearing clock facein this drawing.
Whilst I'm in a better place whereby I've been able to help other people for years - the void is something I don't quite know how to handle. And having pursued sobriety for years, the call of "The Black" often feels all the more harrowing, as I cannot hide away from it - and it follows me along every path I go; feeling as if, at any moment it will swallow up the ground beneath my feet - and take me into the void.
“Time itself is not; it arises only from the future’s anxiety and the past’s return.”
Ed
