Anutka's Eyes
Black ink felt tip pen on paper
This drawing took me over two years to complete, and it has several meanings that built up over time. The original theme of the piece was the cycle of life and death, how every end brings a new beginning and each new beginning leads to an eventual end.
However, a more personal theme emerged as the years passed. “Anutka’s Eyes” is the russian name for Wild Pansy flowers, the ones blooming out of Anutka’s eye sockets. “Anutka” is the russian diminutive case for the name Anne, my mother’s name. This piece is also about my relationship to my mother, from whom I’ve been separated by national borders since I was 8 years old. It is about the internal shift that probably happens in every child-parent relationship as the child becomes an adult, and the parent ages.
The part of me that still viewed her as my Mother, the one to look up to, aspire to be, ask for solace and comfort, the part that felt entitled to her love, that longed for her to fulfill her maternal role...that part died. A new relationship was born from its ashes, however. One that I feel is healthier and more positive. In my own mind, I am not the Adult. The big one, that can afford to be kind, and patient, and forgiving. I realized that my mom is actually just a person, a human like me and you. The only thing that i should expect out of her is to just be Anne, but that does not diminish the love that is there.
This drawing took me over two years to complete, and it has several meanings that built up over time. The original theme of the piece was the cycle of life and death, how every end brings a new beginning and each new beginning leads to an eventual end.
However, a more personal theme emerged as the years passed. “Anutka’s Eyes” is the russian name for Wild Pansy flowers, the ones blooming out of Anutka’s eye sockets. “Anutka” is the russian diminutive case for the name Anne, my mother’s name. This piece is also about my relationship to my mother, from whom I’ve been separated by national borders since I was 8 years old. It is about the internal shift that probably happens in every child-parent relationship as the child becomes an adult, and the parent ages.
The part of me that still viewed her as my Mother, the one to look up to, aspire to be, ask for solace and comfort, the part that felt entitled to her love, that longed for her to fulfill her maternal role...that part died. A new relationship was born from its ashes, however. One that I feel is healthier and more positive. In my own mind, I am not the Adult. The big one, that can afford to be kind, and patient, and forgiving. I realized that my mom is actually just a person, a human like me and you. The only thing that i should expect out of her is to just be Anne, but that does not diminish the love that is there.