This work is one which, like the grief it represents, changes over time. It began following the death of my mum in 2022 with three empty diffusers I found in her home.
They diffusers spoke to how I felt then. The bottles were empty – or almost empty – where once they were full. The reeds did nothing but smell faintly of what had once been, carrying nothing into nothing; ‘air traded for air’ as Rilke put it. They were the perfect metaphor for loss.
I wanted therefore to do something with them along with those I had in my own home. I thought about the glass containers, about what what they represented. To me they were the like the presence of my mum in the present day. They were transparent. You could see the present distorted through the glass, just as now I sometimes see the present when remembering my mum. I can’t see her, but I can hear the things she might have said. I see what I see distorted as if by her words, her laughter.
When I remember mum, I am using that presence – the shape of the glass – from which memories come not only of the past, but also of the present; as if she is still there with us, looking at the world as it is now. Planting the glass containers with wildflowers reflects that feeling. Memories are like the seeds. They sit within us and with the sun, the rain, all that is present now in our everyday world, they grow.
Memories are not relics – things left over from the past. They are a part of life now, growing and flowering, continuing the life of the loved one after they’ve passed away.