It's been over two weeks since I've seen my dad...He's not far away, just a couple of kilometres, but that might as well be the moon considering his nursing home is locked down and inaccessible to any except staff and medical professionals. I have an odd feeling about it considering that I many never see him again if he was to be struck down by this virus.
If you don't know already, from my previous blogs, my dad suffers dementia and has lost most of his memory including who his children are; At 84 years old this year it's not uncommon I guess. Fortunately I have a memory still though and, depending on how the next few months roll out, I might need to rely solely on it.
Today I went hunting around home for some of my dad's artwork; I was looking for something in particular and came across a few pencil drawings which you will see in this post.
I have purposefully used the unfinished one as the main image as it sums up my dad's situation quite nicely I believe:
A life left unfinished
You see, from the moment his dementia began his life forked to a new path, one that leads, quite predictably, to a final destination; We're all heading that way I suppose. I can't help but feel that his life is incomplete, like the picture above, that it was not as fulfilled as it could should have been however I take heart from some words my dad said to me not long before dementia carried his clarity of thought away...
"I have had an amazing life, come so far from where I began, seen the world, lived in the best country in the world [Australia], married a beautiful woman and had five children who are the crowning glory of my life. I am content and happy."
I walked away feeling humbled that this man who has worked so hard to lift himself from a very poor position felt so strongly about his life. I only saw a portion of it, and for some I was just a kid, but I know my dad has strived so very hard, overcome great adversity, racism and personal tragedy to craft a life he could look back on with such pleasure and contentment. I also felt very proud of him at that moment, and fortunate that I have had such a role-model in my life.
He will leave us at some stage; His life will come to an end, but not his work-ethic, life-ethos and attributes which will live on through his children, my brothers sister and I.
Design and create your ideal life, don't live it by default is my own life-ethos and looking back it's amazing that my father did exactly that, he just didn't have a phrase to define it; He used his life to do that.
My dad was an artist - Certainly not as famous as Picasso, Gauguin, Renoir, Michelangelo and the rest...But well-known enough to have his paintings hanging in private collections around the world.
He was an art teacher at secondary level high-school and did some private tuition also.
My memory of him will always be him sitting with a large stretched canvas on an easel before him, palette of paints in his left hand and brush in his right.
He would key-note speak around the country, have exhibitions and had an art gallery where one could view his work and speak with the artist in person. I have hundreds and hundreds of newspaper clippings, awards and other recognitions of his work. All meaningless to me other than as a memory of course...
...Meaningless, in the way that to me he wasn't just an accomplished artist to me; He was my dad, the man who used to doodle on paper with me and help me to find my creative flair through Lego, pottery, papier mache or any number of other creative pursuits. I'm sorry to say that my artistic side was rather pathetic in truth, but he encouraged me nonetheless.
I came across these drawings today, just a couple that he did for a book about Australian native animals someone had asked him to illustrate. He did these pencil drawings plus colour paintings as well. I remember him doing these in the early 1980's and the hours and hours that went into them; The detail is quite spectacular in real life, these pictures don't do them justice at all however you get the idea I guess. I have edited them and omitted his signature to protect his identity of course.
The Australian Lyrebird. These birds have a beautiful song, but also the ability to mimmic the sounds of other things: Birds, construction equipment and even the sound of a camera shutter. This David Attenborough video is worth a look.
The dingo - Australia's wild dog. These fellas can be found over most of Australia and are known for their speed, agility, and stamina. They're tough bastards. They won't trouble a human generally, although if hungry have been known to attack. Don't worry, they don't occur in the cities.
These photos of the original drawings don't really tell the story for you I guess, but for me they bring back memories of my dad hunched over his table drawing them for the book illustration. I have the original draft of that book in my possession, the lose pages of text which he worked from when illustrating, to know where each picture would go...I have been meaning to track down the actual book which I will do at some stage.
Human life has an end date; Every one of us will die at some stage...All things die at some stage, even the Earth, the sun and the universe - I watched an excellent documentary on that yesterday...But that's in a billion years for Earth, when the sun swells and makes it uninhabitable...Human life? Well...Ours doesn't go for so long as that.
I don't know if I'll feel as emphatic and content about my life as my dad does, however everything I do revolves around living my best version of it - I don't know when it might end.
I know that might sound a little odd to say, but think about it, all these people dying from the virus lately. I wonder how many lived life to its fullest thinking it could be taken away at any point and how many floated along wasting opportunities as they went. That's not my style for sure - The pursuit of my best life is acceptable, nothing less.
I keep in constant contact with the nursing home, daily in fact. My dad isn't going very well and they are trying to treat a few serious issues I'd rather not talk about here. I may see him again when they lift the access restrictions and I may not; Time will tell.
What I have though are memories of the thing that most defined his life; His artistic pursuits and my small part in them. These memories are punctuated by simple things I have like the drawings above, his large acrylic on canvas paintings I have shared with you previously and a few brushes and ink pens I found today.
Like the drawn lines, ink on paper and brush strokes on canvas my dad laid down throughout his life, the influence and examples he imprinted on me are indelibly marked and I'm grateful I have them.
Thanks for reading my post y'all and, if you haven't done so today, tell those around you how much they mean to you, how much you value and appreciate them.
Design and create your ideal life, don't live it by default - Tomorrow isn't promised.
Be well