Portugal with Art Catto

collections, Colour, Galleries, Mother and Child

When I was younger, I think I had the illusion that if you find yourself a mate you would then happily sit in a nest together looking out at the world. However, that isn’t what I have found to be true and not what has worked for me. For us, we fly down different valleys and then return to the nest to share tales of what we have seen and heard. That way, we see more of the world and are able to share a nest as well.

When the sculptor goes gallivanting off to sunny shores for exhibitions I really don’t have any desire to go with him. Over the past few years he has been to South Africa, Germany, Belgium and several trips to London. Perhaps, once the boys are older and no longer have the same need for me, I might go but whilst they are still young I’d rather be with them as an anchor. I am not sure how honest this is. However, he is there to work not to holiday. Also, because we work together it is actually quite good to get a little break! Actually, I think I would like to go on my own solo holiday and I have been reading about how for some women this is really important. I do think I perhaps should have spent more time on self care when the boys were smaller. However, I think this has only become a really ‘buzz’ concept over the last couple of years.

When it comes to travelling my husband and I have very different approaches which doesn’t make it the most relaxing of experiences for me. At these exhibition openings he is there for a purpose. He needs to be able to mingle and chat and he does so apparently with ease but he gets so so nervous before hand. On this trip he met a variety of people from all walks of life and he tells me everything in such detail, he is full of stories on his return. It is quite amazing to think of a young boy from a small village in northern Egypt now taking his work from the UK to Portugal. This collection of work is from the ‘Only Human’ collection and is presented by Art Catto at the Conrad hotel, Algarve.

The colours of the sculpture look awesome against the blue sky and green foliage. A true picture of summer. Meanwhile, whilst the sculptor was there struggling in the heat. I was running the shop, which actually is relatively straight forward with the addition of two boys as it was half term holidays and zero sunshine. My youngest, very active boy kept himself busy using a display fake peach, from the fruit bowl, as a football and scuffing all the plinths needless to say I didn’t keep the shop open for long. Except for a day when my parents took them to York for the day I had peace and quiet in the shop. So we survived and the week went past quite quickly. Interestingly, I had a fleeting moment before he went that I wouldn’t be able to do it all. I quickly realised that this was ridiculous and that I was more than capable of being able to do it all. I have been reading and listening to various things recently that confirm that what you are thinking and believing has so much impact on what happens. On the flip side of that, I had lots of ideas of what I would do whilst I had the evenings to myself but none of them really happened and I missed the sculptor more than I would admit. He is back now and the next project is Liverpool plinth….exciting stuff!

 

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Temperatures and Temperaments

Making, Mother and Child

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Each afternoon this half term week, I have been in the shop which on these bizarrely warm February days has felt a little frustrating. This time last year we were deep in snow and forecasts do say snow is still on the way. As much as the sunshine has been lovely it is a concern that the seasons seem upside down. We are seeing the affects of climate change first hand. Temperatures slowly rising is not a good sign.

The eldest had his first gig last Friday evening which was amazing to watch. It was surreal to see him very relaxed and easily able to perform in front of a small crowd. He currently practises on an electric guitar at home and when he rehearsed at school one of their bass guitars. So, he desperately wanted to visit the guitar shop this week and look at a bass guitar. It was an interesting lesson for him to look and not purchase. He didn’t want to leave the shop. Teaching him patience.

The youngest had a flurry of football related activities to start the week off school which I had thought would help the arrangements for child care but actually just added in the complication of getting him to and from each day. Ambitious and anxious to do well in anything physical, he overcame his first day nerves and enjoyed three days of soccer in the sun.

I feel like the last remaining grains of our Egyptian holiday have finally disappeared and I am fully back into the routines and rhythms of daily life. Half term was needed simply to break the rhythm. However, it isn’t a break. Logistically more complicated almost but we have had sunshine! When it is good weather I have a compulsive urge to be out in it. I think, because there is never any consistency to the weather in this country.

I realise I live with an artist, a musician and a sportsman in my tribe, all with the temperaments to match. Which I joke, is why I did a Psychology degree, to be able to manage all these personalities. Having said that, I maybe the most temperamental one, my own mood was drastically affected by the moon last week which I have never felt such a connection to before. I do think the elements, the seasons, the weather affect us. What do you think?

I am attempting to make little changes at home, using refills for washing liquid, washing powered, hand soap. Trying to buy things without plastic but I wonder sometimes how this helps. There is so much more I could do but it is hard to be consistent and to keep on top of. Do you refuse, reuse, renew, recycle? We were clearing out the shed and tidying up the back yard last weekend and my fantastic, not so long ago purchased, glass water bottle, was left by me in a place which was perhaps precarious. Despite it’s rather sculptural silicone wrap, landing on the concrete  slab  yard meant it  smashed into several pieces. I was rather upset about it for numerous reasons. Of course all my boys seem to think that if it had been plastic it would have been better!

We are awaiting several projects in the pipeline and so it is a matter of waiting to see what will happen. So the sculptor is slightly in limbo waiting and with one of his metal pieces needing lots of sanding time he has set to work on a collection called, ‘Broken Clouds’. Going to collect the eldest from the studio who has been helping the sculptor in the afternoon has meant I have seen the progress of this new creation. It has been more of an experimental one but also a return to resin again which the sculptor had decided to stop. You can almost smell the toxicity in the air on approaching the studio. I now understand why the sculptor is concerned about his health. I think the studio is probably the antithesis of my approach to our home.

I like this collective title ‘Broken Clouds’ as it links to our current concern with climate change but perhaps also a connection to ourselves. Is the weather reflecting society. Is everything broken? I don’t often think too far in the future but when I consider what the world might be like when my boys are adults and for future generations, I do hope we can start to fix things. I believe it all starts with us. We have to be the one making the change.

“The greatest threat to our planet

is the belief that someone else will save it”, Robert Swan.

Stars and Stories

Connections, Mother and Child, Philosophy

On Monday evening my youngest and I went running with a running club. It wasn’t easy for me. However, it was a great start in my personal challenge of getting fit again. We were with a group of six children and in between relays, as it was such a clear night, I pointed out the plough to them. We probably could have seen many more constellations, I think Orion’s belt was even visible. It was amazing really and gave me a sneaky way of getting my breath back.

Constellations. Sam Shendi. 2018

Usually I wouldn’t post photos of the work in the studio without the white backdrop but this sculpture: ‘Constellations” didn’t get a chance of a photo shoot before she (I think she is totally feminine) was purchased by a private collector.

If you have only been interested in the Mercury in the new film Bohemian Rhapsody then you may not have realised that we have been in a Mercury retrograde which if I have followed it correctly basically means that three or four times a year Mercury passes earth in orbit and appears to stop and then spin backwards. Apparently this can cause communication crisis, frustrations and confusions. Usually I can be quite tapped into this kind of phenomenon but I don”t think I have been overly clumsy and frustrated. I think that just comes with the territory of being the mother of boys and naturally clumsy! However, this time is supposed be a good one for letting go of ways that no longer serve you and releasing troubled thoughts and bitter words. So let go.

It’s the season of the year for moons and stars. Hopefully all aligned again in time to welcome the winter solstice on the 21st.

“Let the waters settle and you will see the moon and the stars mirrored in your own being” – Rumi.

Who am I?

Mother and Child, Relationships, Soul searching

The age old existential question, Who am I?

We can easily describe ourselves in labels, as I have done for the name of my site, The Sculptor’s Wife. We can be wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend or husband, father, brother, son but that doesn’t make us who we are. I remember my sister telling me this after she had been in a lecture where they were asked to do this exercise and she had described herself in labels. Roles, which do play an important part in what we do.

In thinking about this, I took a little quiz at www.quizony.com which  kindly told me I was balanced, emotionally stable, a calm steady force and anchor for those around me. Without blowing my own trumpet I’d say that was pretty acurate. I need to be in a house with three male Shendi’s all with artistic temperaments (whatever that means). However, this painting might suggest otherwise:

Painting of me

Painting, The Sculptor’s Wife. by Sam Shendi 2018

 

The sculptor painted this earlier in the year whilst we were doing home improvements and whilst doing so we moved around the paintings. My husband re-used an old canvas of his which had been framed. There are several amusing things about this painting. I am green, I am holding a pineapple like a baby, I am wearing a pearl necklace which I don’t own. I think I look very severe with a nose like a smurf, not calm and anchored at all. Perhaps I do look anchored. I somehow look routed to the spot not willing to move from my view point. The funny thing is I think it looks very much like my Aunty, my Dad’s sister. Although, as I have lived with this portrait staring down at me in my kitchen over the last few months it does have an air of resemblance, despite it being like a caricature. I do tend to have pink cheeks!

I started this blog nearly nine years ago almost just as a documentary for myself not with intention of people reading it. This year I am really starting to think about growing it (any tips/advice on how to greatly received). Prompting me to consider where it is going and where I am going as me, myself. My desire to write. To expand. My role as wife and mother is pretty central to my day to day living and purpose. I manage much of the admin for both our kitchen business and our expansion into the art world with sculpture. In today’s world if we are not career driven then it can be seen as not aspirational and as though being a homemaker is not ambitious enough, as though it is something from the 1950’s. I think and hope ‘we’ are turning a corner in what defines success and how to achieve happiness.

 I started this year with ‘purpose’ as an intention. Not having a resolution but a word for the year. In doing so I have set goals and now well on my way to achieving them which gives me hope for 2019. There are so many more ways to learn and self improve than doing so through a structure of a system designed by others.

Last night whilst reading to my son the character was saying that everything happened by chance. I said I didn’t agree and that when things happened it was fate. My son said they were the same thing, but in discussing it, we decided fate was more connected faith. When you have faith then everything happens for a reason. It has a more hopeful outlook than merely chance. I think I would describe myself as a woman of faith but like everything it is all a practice. In current society that brings about many challenges.

‘To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment” 

Ralph Waldo Emerson.

For those new to reading my blog thank you for reading. I am, to use the labels, wife to the sculptor Sam Shendi. I write about the sculptures, art and day to day life with an artist and as the mother of two active and growing boys. I am seemingly, a calm, balanced regal pineapple!

You can also follow me on instagram @thesculptorswife.

 

End of a chapter

Mother and Child

 

 

It is our eldest’s last week, last day at primary school. Another chapter closes. I feel sadness that these days have passed so quickly, this academic year in particular and all the finalities that have occurred this week. However, I embrace the change that is to come with two schools, a change of after school routines and the life of secondary school. The youngest approaches his eighth birthday and I feel that also marks the end of the infant chapter.

Meanwhile, the sculptor has also decided to close the chapter on the hand carved figurative pieces. Advised that the more abstract minimal pieces are perhaps more unique and meet the demands of the art intellectual and philosophically minded.

I on the other hand feel I am opening chapters. I felt at the start of this year that 2018 would be a good one for me. Perhaps because the boys are reaching the ages of more independence and I can re-discover the things that makes the sculptor’s wife tick. I have been diligent about meeting goals I set at the beginning of the year. Half way through  reflecting that having a word for the year and goals has made such a difference. Maybe approaching the end of another decade assists in this new-found wisdom. I am mindful that I need to continue on with this through the 6 week summer holidays!

So I am re-posting images of Mother and child here to mark the end of these figurative collections and the end of this chapter of childhood.

Tiptoe, Tully and I .

collections, Mother and Child, Philosophy, Relationships

Last night as I stood at the sink washing up, I finally got an idea about my writing this week. Every six or seven weeks I go to the homeopath and initially it was for my eczema but it has helped unravel a whole lot more. Yesterday’s session peeled back another layer of the onion. The problem is, what ever ideas were flowing to me whilst I bathed the dishes in washing up liquid they are not quite streaming to me this morning as I write. I knew I should stop and write them down but the boys were bashing each other upstairs and I needed to get the pots cleared up so I could go and sort them out. The sculptor was at the studio, if you were wondering.

At bedtime, sometimes the sculptor (from a culture with a history and background of oratory) and also with his imagination tells stories from his head but more often that not it is I who reads to them every night. Except this week, I have used the consequence of their brotherly squabbles turning into tears, as a reason for them going to bed early. Which actually last night, I pondered is probably slightly counter productive, as I  think reading to them calms them down before bed. “I think left, I think right” (Dr Seuss). However, we have all been slightly under the weather so the thought of sitting in-between two snotty coughing boys was not so enticing.

This cheeky sculpture is now in Contemporary Sculpture Fulmer which opens May 12th.

tiptoe outdoors

Tiptoe, looking like a Dr Seuss creature exploring in the woods.

It reminds me of the Dr. Seuss character ‘Cat in the hat’ with the red and white stripes. I have loved reading his books to the boys and as much as they haven’t grown out of picture books, poetry and reading time, the boys put them in the pile to give away. It is hard passing on books but when you have limited space there are only so many books you can keep. I am trying not to discourage them  as they always put the strangest things on the discard pile and keep the little odd plastic bits! In our house this week it has felt a little bit like a Dr Seuss book. We have all got into the habit of speaking in rhyme the biggest culprit, well guess! Honestly it is a mad house. I think living with an artist it is bound to be.

Over the last two weeks I keep seeing the trailer for the movie Tully. It immediately resonated with me, as it will probably do for most mothers. But I also really felt, from the brief snippet of the film, that it portrayed my life over the last ten years. I hadn’t realised at the time but when our eldest was one years old we opened our own business and so my husband had to pour into that. So I guess I was home with the baby ( or in Egypt where I spent 2 months of my maternity leave).  This year marks our ten-year business-owning anniversary. Within that time though, we had two boys and I stopped any paid work, so my role has been one of pouring into them. Often, when we are within something we can’t see what is happening and I very easily forgot to re-fill myself. I have been learning about self-care over the last 18 months, a bit like when you are on an aeroplane, they tell you to put your own mask on first before your children. You can’t pour from an empty vessel. I have often looked at other mothers and wondered how they had so much energy and attention. My sleep deprivation definitely had an effect on all areas of my life. Even with the power of knowledge and hindsight ten years later, sleep deprive me for a night and I am not fit for much.

From what I gleaned from the trailer of the movie, a woman called Tully comes to care for the mother in the film, played by Charlize Theron, who still looks pretty good despite gaining 50 pounds for the role. I guess everyone needs a Tully to come and care for them. I think this is what we lack in the west now as we live and bring up our families in isolation. Perhaps, the African proverb , ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ has underlying wisdom. So, this past year I have sourced a kind-of care from several woman globally and I feel I am slowly coming back to the woman I was. The woman I am. Not the Sam I am (that’s the sculptor and Dr Seuss talking again).

We tiptoe around motherhood in so many ways. Although we may not be able to get a Tully in our lives ( I will have to see the film and probably should have before writing this post) but if you can then do. More importantly you can affect your own life with the story you are telling yourself. Stay positive, words are powerful and find your own inner Tully.

dr seuss

Links for woman needing any help rejuvenate themselves!

May 13-19thwoman’s health 

For un uncluttered life, become unstuck with Allie

Mother like a boss with Kendra

Get fit with Zehra at The Fit nest or Yoga with Adriene

If you are local and looking for a homeopath :

Emma Colley

or

https://wwwfindahomepath.org

Collateral Beauty

Mother and Child, Relationships, Soul searching

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“Memories of my lost child” 2016. Sam Shendi

I have been struggling to write about this piece mainly because I have no experience of losing a child; for which I am thankful for. Nevertheless, it is my greatest fear and in some kind of cathartic practise when I embarked on writing a piece of fiction two years ago (which amounted in a huge number of words now sat festering in my computer’s memory) I made my central theme the idea of losing a child. With the idea of finding some sort of peace and resolve afterwards. However, I still feel a fraud and so perhaps that is why I can’t finish it.

Recently we watched a film, which reminded me that there is no original thought and my idea had almost already been explored-so good at making excuses. The film didn’t get good reviews but I loved it.  The idea of time, death and love personified. That our children come through us (I think that idea was probably taken from Gibran : see below) and that when someone dies, “be sure to notice the collateral beauty.”

On Children –Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Something traumatic in loosing someone through death, especially when they are young may take a lifetime to understand if ever. The concept of the film though is that in that dark and unhappy place there was still love. The beauty is that love continues even after and through death. Death reminds us that we need to be present in every moment because we have no control over our last.

I started to think of other meanings for this piece of work, not just “The memory of my lost child” to death but loosing a child just for a moment. I have experienced that and it is scary enough. It is hard to stop all the fears and worries that flood the mind. It led me to thinking about when parents feel they have lost their child to something else or someone else or somewhere else and how in the mind of the parent they think they have ‘lost’ their child. The complexity of the parent-child relationship is that they are so dependant on you and at each stage you are aware of them “moving away” becoming more independent. As a parent the need may seem to disappear but  the role changes and continually shifts.

The inspiration for this piece for my husband was a strong awareness of the impact the death of his cousin had on his Uncle. The story is tragic and traumatic causing a ripple within the family. This piece is a dedication of that event in my husband’s life but one that resonates with so many for their own individual reason.

However ‘whole’ you might appear the loss means there is always part of you missing. You are missing someone and that has an effect on your whole being.

lost child shafow

Nostalgic boat race day poem

Mother and Child, Soul searching

As I sit down, all my heavy pounds

and lick my lips after a tasty dish,

I’ve spent the afternoon cooking,

dipping in and out of hearing the Cox shout,

the oarsman and woman both,

battle the course of the river head,

I feel sorrow for the rower in me dead,

long ago now in a life I once knew,

experienced that no pain, no gain too,

the strength and the will power in me still,

as I battle the determination of two boys that fill,

all my leftover energies now,

I look out at the sunny spring eve,

wonder if I can run up the hill…how?

I’ve eaten well.

My tummy too full.

I race in my mind and in spirit.

knowing, remembering that once, I did it.

the family cut out

‘The Family’ (2016) Sam Shendi

Ripe for rowing

Colour, Mother and Child

ripe

‘Ripe’, (2016) Sam Shendi

This was me 6 years ago ( well not quite) I’m a bit late posting, due to problems with my computer downloading images and being slow getting the words out! However, it’s enabled me to tie two themes together. My youngest sixth birthday was on Saturday and we watched the rowing and the woman’s eight win a silver medal.

In the last twenty years there has been huge developments in woman’s rowing, yesterday was a fantastic result. I sat and watched in remembrance of my days on the water at Durham and seeing Jess Eddie as a school girl rowing out of Durham’s ARC. Thinking of my good friend who made it to the Beijing Olympics and a former fellow high school student who was in the men’s eight. In the heptathalon, Jessica Ennis Hill proofed you can have a baby and come back to true athletic form. I am in awe of that. In the rowing and the athletics and for all the Olympic sports, there have been many comments about the sacrifice: the time away from family, the hours of training,  and that the moment of success which could so easily be snatched in the last second, out of the winning. Not usually decisive, I made that very clear conscious choice as I went down to London in pursuit of the rowing dream that I wasn’t going to be willing to sacrifice any more time for rowing. Four years had been enough for me.

Now as I watch my husband’s dedication, I again sit on the edge of that choice. My husband sacrifices for his art but it’s a different progress than the journey through a sporting one. For the sports person their window of opportunity is short and if added into that as a woman you have a child then the sacrifices are even greater. If you are pursuing any dream there has to be dedication and persistence and a choice of leading a life which is in pursuit of a goal.

There are sculptures of heavily pregnant woman but for me they are too realistic. Each blue circle on this piece represents a day of the pregnancy, the journey of the development. Perhaps too it can represent the sacrifice. Motherhood is the ultimate of that.

 

ripe 2

The poster

Exhibitions, Mother and Child

Photo shoot today at the studio, so more new images to post and work to write about, once they’ve been uploaded and edited. The ‘Mother and Child’ collection is almost finished and ready for a fantastic exhibition coming up in December.

The journey of motherhood parallels life, it has its ups and downs, highs and lows. My two boys are diverging in their affections of me at present. My youngest is smothering in his kisses and cuddles and albeit, a natural charmer, he is still at the age where he loves me to the moon and back. My eldest has hit the point where when I say “I love you” there is no more, ‘to infinity and beyond’, but a muffled “Okay” in response. It feels to early but I think, as a Cancerian I will need to manage cutting the invisible umbilical cord step by step, although it never feels gentle. The changes are strange, it’s hard to imagine that my youngest will ever start to detach himself from me. Perhaps, he won’t it’s just the nature of their characters or the eldest/youngest child difference. Each stage of mothering has the joys and the challenges. It’s the summer holiday ‘joy’ a the moment. I am deliberately having a positive mindset. Of course, they will never be theses ages again and their infancy is starting to seem like a dream.

I am so excited about this exhibition, still a little while off but time increasingly seems to pass with speed. Not only is this relatively local to us, the space will set off each piece and seeing them all together in a glorious collection will be amazing. Took time to get this poster right but well worth it.

exhibition poster