‘Crumpled Memories’ is a part of my ongoing work cycle I call ‘Tempus Fugit’, a multi-discipline exploration of the fleeing of time.
When asking myself, how do I render in physical realms, the non-tangible world of memories?
An unexpected answer arose from way deep inside; all I could see was my mother’s last days, in palliative care.
She had become a little bundle of flesh, a vulnerable human being seemingly unaware of her surroundings.
Her hands made bizarre repeated movements: folding and releasing her bedsheets, in small clusters, over and over,
gathering and releasing, for hours at a time.
Was she enacting a routine to avoid boredom, like a tiger in a zoo, striding the same path in his small cage?
Or was it like a little child, rocking itself to gain security?
Answers were in short supply.
Perhaps romantically, to help soothe my pain, I came to see my mother as gathering her memories, for the unknowable journey that awaited.
Every clustered bedsheet, a new memory.
Collecting and releasing, time and again…
An unconscious movement… one last struggle to physically render the very nature of a life,
perhaps this ‘Crumpled Memory’ is all we can take with us…
copyright © Karolien Soete