Mothers and Mothering 😊

I was fifteen when we shifted into our own home. My mom and I. 

I had a room to myself for the first time and I was given enough choice and freedom to choose my own colors and decorate it the way I wanted 😊. 

I painted my bathroom wall with this sprig of flowers. Even today the instructions to the cleaning lady is to just dust it and never use a harsh detergent on it. It looks the same as it did when I made it three decades ago! 

My mom’s home is full of my paintings, but nothing gives her more joy that this one, done spontaneously by her teenaged daughter, who had stars in her eyes, a deep love for nature and painting and no idea what to do with it. 

This one wall reaffirms for me just how much someone’s faith can give power to us…

Everytime I have an exhibition I think of this wall and relive my journey… My mom never rubbed it off, given that she is a stickler for cleanliness, somewhere she saw in me, the seeds of something that I was unaware of… And she nurtured it, without saying a word… 

In believing in me she gave me the greatest gift she ever could…. That of believing in myself… 😊

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