Stuart and Sue Pryde and Nushi Khan-Levy Finished Paintings

A Graceful Death Exhibition

St Martin in the Bull Ring, Birmingham B5 5BB

Friday 4 November - Tuesday 29 November

Open Daily

Opening Event Thursday 3 November

2pm - 4pm

With

Poetry Workshop with Penny Hewlett

Poet in Residence at St Martins 

from 2.30 - 4  "Facing Loss"

All Very Welcome and Tea and cakes for all

 

I have finished the paintings of Stuart and Sue Pryde.  Sue committed suicide on 7 August 2008, leaving her husband Stuart bereft, confused and devastated.  Stuart has worked with Eileen Rafferty, photographer and co-producer of the A Graceful Death exhibition, and me to produce these images and allow me to reproduce some of Sue's words and her suicide note.  I have not used Sue's suicide note to Stuart, just the one she left for the police.  

The image I have used for Sue is an image that Stuart came upon by accident, it was taken without her knowing only a few days before her planned suicide took place.  The photo shows Sue without artifice, as she truly was at that moment with the knowledge of what she had planned and set up taking up all her thoughts.  No one knew of her decision, and the photograph was just a quick snap of a friend on an uneventful afternoon.  What it actually captured is evident in hindsight.  Sue was withdrawing from the world, setting things in motion for her death and most of all, keeping it deeply secret.   Who could have known?  Taking this photo was the last image ever taken of her.  Who could have known that within a few days she would have arranged her own death in a deeply thoughtful and precise way.  Sue left no space for failure, she wanted to die and killed herself with gentleness, peace and deadly thoroughness.

Stuart loved his wife and loves her still.  Eileen and Neill have both filmed him when he came here to discuss this work for A Graceful Death, and we were all struck at the depth of his love for her and for her love for him.  But Sue had too many terrible demons in her mind, and nothing it seemed, could still them.  Her own death was the only way out.  Here are the paintings

Both Stuart and Sue loved gardening and these are the flowers that Stuart suggested for the paintings.  The deep blue sky is a memory of the skies of Sue's childhood in Tanzania.  Below are three smaller canvases that go in between Stuart and Sue

The words are Sue's suicide letter, some words from Sue's diary, and finally Sue's wonderful letter to Stuart on their wedding day.  The text is set out below for you to read.  It is very important that you read these words, Sue was articulate and amazing.

First Painting

To whom it may concern

I have taken 40mg of diazepam to decrease my anxiety, and some more (crushed) to depress my breathing and decrease my likelihood of convulsions.  Some Tramadol simply because it makes me dizzy; around 6 units of alcohol and 30mg zoplicone.  The helium is self-evident.  There is no cry for help here; I do not intend to be found; I intend to die.

My plan is to have taken enough drugs and alcohol to fall into an unnatural sleep.  Before I do so, I plan to turn on the helium in order to suffer oxygen deprivation and die.  I am afraid of pain and do not want to suffer.  I think and hope that this will be a peaceful way out for me.

I do not have a mental health problem, and I feel that I have made the decision to die as a rational choice given the nature of my life for the past 40 years.  I have decided that I can’t tolerate my feelings of helplessness and disgust (for myself and the rest of the world) any longer.

I am not afraid of death

but I am afraid of dying.  I have been waiting for the right time to do this for many years, and now it’s here, I look forward to just not being here anymore.

Should I be found alive, this will be a mistake on my part, because I intend to die.  I ask that no attempt be made to resuscitate or treat my condition.  I request that I be allowed to die.  Should I end up unconscious and in hospital being treated, I request that I do not be treated in any way other than by being given

oral care.  There is a Statement of Values attached here, and this document specifies the conditions under which I would like to live and die.  If necessary, please revert to that document for guidance.  I know it is unlikely that my organs will be of use, but I’m on the organ donor register all the same.

I offer my sincere apologies to the staff of Premier Inns, and in particular to the staff member who was unfortunate enough to find me.  I hope that the anonymity that suited me

 will help them to keep what has happened as an abstract concept that does not intrude too heavily on their life.

I would like to add that I did this entirely under my own steam.  Stuart nor any other person has any knowledge of my plans.  No person helped me in any way.  No person or organisation that supplied me with equipment had any knowledge of my intentions, and I took great care to act in an appropriate manner when making purchases.

If I could somehow do this with making no impact on anyone’s life, I would.  I am more sorry than anyone can know that I will make people look inside themselves to see what they did to drive me to this.  I truly hope that those who know anything about suicide (either from experience or study) will know that this was a decision I made all by myself, and that nothing anyone could do was enough to keep me from this path.

The people I love most in this world are Stuart, Maureen and Tara.  The rest are irrelevant to me.

Second Painting

If life is sacred, then we shouldn't have to drag it around like a death thing all our lives.

This is such an alone place to be.  I don't choose to be here - I choose to be someplace else that no one else can understand unless they feel suicidal.  It's cruel that ther is nobody to help me simply because suicide is such a taboo.  A dying cat or dog can be cradled in its owners arms.

I see myself as being stuck with these terrible feelings for the last forty years, and when I think of just how long that is, I want to lie down and sleep forever because I'm so tired of it all, day after day of loathing.  It makes me choke and vomit in the morning, each time I awaken and realise I'm still here.  And that it won't end, and witll be the same until I run out of steam.

Third Painting

Sue’s statement on our wedding day, 26^th June 1998.

When we are done, and they see the pages of our life, bound and nestling together, I want them to turn to each other and say: “Theirs was a good book – such characters; what a story.”

Some will see the life and laughter; some the pain and death.  Some will see God and love.  But they’ll all know a good book when they see one.

And when I read our book, I want to read about all the laughter and all the pain; all the life and all the death; all the God and all the love, because a good book has it all.

We have built our castles and planted our trees, and I thank our God for what we have done together.  If one of us dies today, we will have had a beginning, a middle and an end, and if we live to be a hundred it will be the same.  I know that had our pages, our lives, not been set this way, we would not have found this love: Circumstance and coincidence have long ceased to explain our magic.

Nushi Khan-Levy

 Re reading Nushi's notes taken when we discussed the painting, I realised that I had not painted Nushi's love of cherry blossom.  I have taken out the yellow patterned halo, taken from a Hindu Goddess painting, which did not really suit Nushi, and replaced it with a softer more sympathetic cherry blossom halo.  Nushi is still a goddess, she is warmer and softer with this pink colour and style.  I have improved her eyes, and I have painted in the lower right hand corner, the small cut glass perfume bottle that she talked of.  If, she said, she could distill all the moments of love and understanding, the close and intimate moments of empathy and kindness, shared with her husband during her illness and treatment, she would put them into a beautiful perfume bottle so that when she is better, and life has returned to normal, she can dab a little of that perfume on each morning to remind her of how close they were.  

This image below, is taken by Eileen Rafferty, the official photographer and co producer of A Graceful Death.

So now, come to the exhibition if you can.  You are all welcome, and write in the Memory Book all that you want.  I will be there for the opening on Thursday and for Friday morning, and then on the 28 and 29 November for the closing prayer and poetry workshop with the amazing Penny Hewlett.

Painting And Preparing For Birmingham In November

 A Graceful Death at St Martin in the Bull Ring, Birmingham B5 5BB

Friday 4 November - Tuesday 29 November Daily

Opening Event with Poetry Workshop by Poet in Residence Penny Hewlett on Thursday 3 November, in the church.

Amazing how time flies.  I first planned this Birmingham exhibition over a year ago, and thought it was always too far away to worry about.  And now, it is here.  The exhibition opens at the end of this month.  I am getting everything ready, including the following items -

• I am developing Nushi Khan Levy's portrait a little.  When I read the notes we took when we interviewed her, there were references that she wanted to her life which I had missed.  I have given her a cherry blossom type halo now, and have put in the pretty perfume bottle that she said would represent the closeness she felt with her husband during her chemotherapy treatment.  If she could distill these precious moments, she said, and put them in a bottle of perfume, she would dab a little on her wrists every day later when she was well.  There are a few more touches I want to add, like leaves.  And more words.
• Painting Stuart and Sue's portraits has begun.  For some reason, Sue has turned out smaller than Stuart.  They are facing each other in profile, with a bright blue sky behind them.  I will add flowers and plants that meant a lot to both of them, and see what happens.  Already I want to add a golden outline to Sue.  The photo I am using is the last one of her, taken a few days before she carried out her planned suicide, which is leaving me feeling very sad.  I like her face, though it is not very easy to see in this photo.  I like her, and I want to do something that says she is special.  Stuart is coming on very well.  He is blessed with a face that is very easy to see.  Some people have features that seem to merge into each other and the face, and thus are hard to distinguish.  Stuart does not have this problem, his is a face I can do!
• Penny Hewlett's poem May Remembrance needs to be re written and re presented.  I have not done it justice, and so, will do it again.
• I am writing the prayer I wrote after Steve died on a larger piece of canvas.  The original is on a block of wood and is difficult to read.  Possibly because I was so disgusted with God when I wrote it.  But I want the words to be read clearly;  we are often very angry when someone we love dies, and want to tell God in no uncertain terms what we think of the whole thing.  It is part of the experience of loss.

Poetry Workshops During the Exhibition by Penny Hewlett  

St Martin in the Bullring has a poet in residence.  Penny Hewlett is a fine poet and a deeply thoughtful lady, very experienced in many areas of life and living, and dedicated to her craft.  I am so lucky to have Penny to take poetry workshops for the A Graceful Death exhibition, and these are the dates and times -

Workshop 1: Facing Loss          Thursday 3 November: opening 2.00 pm and workshop 2.30-4.00pm
Workshop 2: Saying Goodbye    Saturday 12 November 11 am - 1pm (if you are coming to this workshop please bring some photos)
Workshop 3: Moving Away      Tuesday 29 November, Talk 2.00, Workshop 2.30 - 4.00 pm 

I hope to see you all for the opening on Thursday 3 November,  where we will not only have Penny's first workshop on Facing Loss, we will have tea and cake.  Perfect.

Birmingham Next. Come And See Us There.

So now the next exhibition is full steam ahead. Here are the dates and times for your diaries -

A Graceful Death Exhibition next at 

 St Martin in the Bullring

Birmingham B5 5BB

November 4 - November 29

opening times to be confirmed - approx 9 am to 4.30 pm

Opening Celebration - all welcome -

Thursday 3 November

2pm - 3.30pm

Tea and cakes for everyone and 

poetry workshop run by Poet in Residence Penny Hewlett.

Come and meet us, see the paintings and write in our Memory Book

Eileen Rafferty, my dear photographer friend, is now officially on board and is part of the A Graceful Death exhibition.  She has always done so much for it, always been behind the scenes giving her time and expertise and being indispensable in every way.  I am delighted to have her officially a part of A Graceful Death.   Though Neill Blume is making us a film of A Graceful Death, how the exhibition works and what it all means, (ready by the end of this year),  Eileen will also be providing a separate small film and sound track to show alongside the paintings, complimenting Neill's work and approach.  Eileen also is the official AGD photographer and will be publishing many of her works in an A Graceful Death book at the end of this year.  The book will be on sale at our next exhibition at St James's in Piccadilly, over Easter 2012.

We are very lucky indeed to have the services of St Martin's Poet in Residence, Penny Hewlett.  Penny will be leading three separate poetry workshops within the A Graceful Death exhibition, working with concepts that affect us at the end of life. The first workshop will run during the Opening on Thursday 3 November, 2 - 3.30pm.   I will let you know more as Penny lets me know her themes.  There will be a workshop mid exhibition, dates when I know them, and at the end of the A Graceful Death's time in St Martin's.  Penny will run her final poetry workshop at the closing ceremony on November 29 between 2 - 3.30pm.

I also hope to show  work by the artist Stevan Stratford.  Stevan is the artist in residence at St Barnabas Hospice in Worthing, West Sussex.  He is very intrigued by the themes of 'There and Not There'.  Stevan has a small installation piece that is both deeply thoughtful and deeply intriguing.  I hope to show it in Birmingham, more on that later.

For this new exhibition, I am showing the paintings of Nushi Khan-Levy, who is so  interesting to film and to paint.  She is painted looking very glamorous, doing what she called Cancer Chic despite the effects of her chemotherapy treatment.  She is an articulate and powerful lady! I am also painting the portraits of Stuart and his wife Sue for this exhibition.  Sue killed herself, leaving Stuart utterly bereft.  Sue also left some very powerful accounts of her decision to die, and has left us with no doubt that she could not do otherwise.  Her accounts are moving, tragic and deeply brave.  No amount of her love for her husband Stuart, can make his life now any easier.  Stuart struggles to live on without her, and his decision to be painted with Sue, and to use some of her words for the exhibition, is brave and strong.  I know Sue will touch others and will open up a conversation on the dreadful pain of suicide. 

More Dates For Your Diaries

With each showing there is more work.  I will paint more paintings, the public will send in more poetry for which I am incredibly grateful.  Penny Hewlett has agreed to come to London to run poetry workshops there and Eileen Rafferty's book of her photography around the A Graceful Death exhibition  will be on sale.  Neill Blume's film of A Graceful Death, what it means and interviews with various participants in the exhibition, will also be showing and copies will be available for sale too.  

A Graceful Death will be showing at St James's in Piccadilly, London over Easter 2012.  

Tuesday 27 March - Tuesday 10 April 2012.

A Graceful Death will be showing at Sheffield University, Sheffield for three days in November 2012 as a public engagement event aimed at exploring and debating end-of-life issues using perspectives from University of Sheffield research, art and poetry.

More on these engagements nearer the time. 

In the meantime, if you want to contact me about this exhibition, please do so.  I am available on antonia.rolls1@btinternet.com 

See you in Birmingham on Thursday 3 November for the Opening of A Graceful Death, from 2pm  -  3.30pm. 

An Act Of Love

I watched my beloved elderly Aunt talking yesterday, and the way the light fell through the window onto her face.  At 85, she finds recovering from her ill  health more and more difficult; her time is precious but she is still strong willed and beautiful.  I saw how tiny she had become, and I saw the way her brown eyes looked large in a face that had always been beautiful but was now ethereal, painfully thin and utterly exquisite .  If I could paint you, I thought to myself, how would I do it?  If I had you in front of me, as you are now, and my paints, how would I see you?

 She moved her tiny hands with grace as she talked softly and slowly.  Her hair, smooth and soft, shone in the sunshine that lit her pearl necklace and earrings . When I was about 10 years old, watching my Aunt apply her make up as she sat on the floor in front of her mirror on the coffee table, made me long to do that too for the rest of my life.  I wanted to paint my eyes with brown eyeliner and put on green eyeshadow.  I wanted to wear a pretty under-slip and sit cross legged on the floor in the morning and put heated rollers in my hair, wearing pink lipstick.  I wanted to do everything she did and be as breathtakingly beautiful as this wonderful Aunt. 

  Oh how I love this brilliant, talented, funny, lady. How her grandson and all of her many nephews and nieces do.  As I watched her skin catching the sunlight, as I saw how deep her eyes had become, and as I admired the softness of her now white hair, I realised that every brush stroke I applied to a painting of her, would be an act of love.  An act of love to capture the pleasure her beauty has always given me, to capture the wit and fun of her nature, to capture the wonder that is her.

When I paint someone for A Graceful Death, there too each brush stroke is an act of love.  Though I do not know my sitters as I know my Aunt, the love and respect I feel for each person who contributes to the exhibition is the same.  Watching my Aunt yesterday, gazing at her face and tiny form, I longed to do her justice. That, I think, is how I feel about all  my paintings for A Graceful Death. I long to do justice to the life and the power of the person I am painting. I am in awe of the power of life, in awe of the mystery and extreme power of death, and am deeply touched by the journey that my sitters are undertaking. When I paint Stuart who is alive, and his wife Sue who is not, for the November A Graceful Death in Birmingham, I will want to honour not only Stuart who is living and making his future painfully day by day, but also Sue who by ending her own life has taken a most powerful and traumatic step and cannot and must not ever be forgotten.  I will want to honour them together and apart, as I want to honour the journey of Nushi who I have just painted.  Nushi has undergone cancer treatment and is changed in a way that is not only powerful, but deeply meaningful for the rest of her life.  In fact, looking at the painting of Nushi (which has appeared in an earlier blog called Cancer Chic), it is not quite ready.  There is more to do to it, and I know what I will do.  More on that when it is done.

If I was to paint my Aunt, I would paint my love of her and my gratitude for all that she is and was and means to me.  I would attempt to capture her soul before it slipped away.  Perhaps any painting for A Graceful Death is about capturing the soul before it is gone.  Perhaps each painting I do is about glimpsing the soul before it moves on to wherever it goes next, about honouring the extraordinary now-ness of life before it becomes death, and painting the vulnerablitly and awe of the human condition.

I will not paint my Aunt for this exhibition.  She would not like it and I would not ask.  But I may paint her anyway, just because she is so important and I would regret it forever if I did not. I will keep the painting with me for private viewing as a tribute to the love we have for one, single, private, funny, utterly beautiful lady, our Aunt.

.A Graceful Death is an exhibition that speaks of the power of dying.  It speaks of the power of life.  It changes and develops and follows a path that is about love and mystery and survival and death and always back to love again. And alongside the paintings are words, words from those who are being painted, words from those who are taking part and words from those who just want to be heard.  I sat with my Aunt yesterday, as frail and tiny as a whisp of mist, and it is interesting that it is not my Aunt that wants to be heard today, it is me.

Cancer Chic

Finally, the painting of Nushi Khan Levy is done.  I have Nushi's agreement to show it so now we can all say Wow Nushi, so this is Cancer Chic! You do it so well.

Nushi is full of colour and life.  She is also fragile and changing her life.  This painting, along with some text from our interview with her is now ready for the next exhibition in Birmingham in November 2011.  The venue for that will be St Martin in the Bullring, and the Opening Party is probably going to be Thursday November 3 in the evening.  I will confirm everything when I have all the details.  It will be very soon, I have a list stretching the entire length of the studio of things to do, people to phone, arrangements to be made.  I shall love showing Nushi there.  I also hope to have Stuart and Sue Pryde finished for November.  If you remember, Stuart came to stay from Scotland in order for Eileen and me to work with him on a work that remembers his wife Sue, who killed herself three years ago in August.  It feels very important to have Stuart and Sue ready to exhibit with Nushi.

Two important developments for A Graceful Death -

1.  Eileen Rafferty (www.eileenrafferty.blogspot.com) is now officially a joint exhibitor.  Eileen has been with the exhibition from day one, and does so much for it.  Her photographic work is invaluable for AGD and recently she has been adding sound and moving image to her portfolio.  She will be contributing her own work photographically, with sound, and with the moving image to work alongside the paintings.  I am so relieved.  Eileen is such a good artist!

2.  AGD is going to show in St James's in Piccadilly next year, 2012.  I am so excited about this.  It has been suggested that the exhibition starts on Passion Sunday and runs through to Easter Day.  The symbolism is profound.  The most painful and important part of the Christian calender is the time leading up to Easter.  It is a time to remember how Christ died and why, and is full of reflection on the end of life.  Christ's passion, as it is called, is the story of his death by crucifixion, including the despair of the days leading up to his arrest and his knowledge of all that he had to endure.  During this time of Lent, we remember our mortality and the hope of life after death which is symbolised with the Resurrection of Christ on Easter Day.  It is fitting that the exhibition will be taken down on Easter Day.  I am honoured that St James's in Piccadilly is allowing A Graceful Death to show at this incredibly sensitive and important time for Christians.  Thank you to Lucy Winkett, the Rector, and the Church council that have agreed to go ahead with it.

I am starting work on Stuart and Sue Pryde by the end of this month, and will post the paintings on here, subject to Stuart's approval, when I have done them.  So now, I had better tackle that list that seems to be growing in front of my eyes, and get, as they say, the show on the road.

AGD and Suicide

This last week Eileen Rafferty, the Photographer www.photosynthesis.blogspot.com came to stay so that we could work together on the A Graceful Death projects, paintings and interviews.  It was always going to be a strong week, it was always going to be hard work as we did not have an easy subject to explore.

Stuart Pryde came to stay from Scotland so that we could work with him on how to represent his wife's suicide for A Graceful Death.  Stuart took a hell of a risk.  This was a long journey to take, it was not a subject that is easy to talk about, and Stuart is a private and gentle man, who does not, I think, tell people his life story unless he knows them very well.  Eileen and Stuart were friends at University in Aberdeen, and though I was at the same University, I was far too arty and badly behaved to know Stuart.  I did however, know Eileen. (Who was not badly behaved).

Stuart spent Tuesday until Thursday with us here in Bognor and gave us his story.  I have no experience of suicide, I don't know what it is about.  Stuart lost the love of his life three years ago last August and is still struggling to find a way through his loss.  His wife Sue was, by all accounts unforgettable.  A powerful force for good, a deeply intelligent and troubled person, with a history of dreadful personal pain and possibly, deep deep depression by the end.  What makes Sue's suicide so extraordinary is that she wrote everything that she felt, did and wanted to do in an account that is lucid and touching in a way that I cannot describe.  She loved Stuart, that is obvious throughout her accounts.  But she hated herself.  She planned her suicide with meticulous and tender detail right down to the care she took to make her dying gentle and loving.  Stuart is living with this bereavement. He is living with the what ifs, the maybe if I had done something, the I didn't know.  Stuart talked from his heart with dignity and pain, and love and sadness, and hopelessness and darkness and always back to love again.

I have a painting of Sue and Stuart to do, I have text to use as part of the painting.  Eileen filmed and photographed our sessions in the studio and on Thursday morning Neill filmed a powerful and forthright interview of Stuart talking about where he is now in his thoughts and mind.  

On the Thursday evening after we had said goodbye to Stuart as he travelled back up North,  Sarah Crawcour came to do a session in the studio. Sarah has had cancer three years ago. A year before she was diagnosed with breast cancer, her partner died. Sarah's account of her illness following the loss of her partner is something that I want to use for AGD.  Two very important points that Sarah makes are that she objected passionately to the pinkification of breast cancer, with the pink ribbons and pink folders for her papers and the relentless upbeatness of the people around her.  Sarah is all for positive thinking, but felt that she wanted to scream and shout and say that her cancer is not pretty, not pink, nor easy to deal with.  This is her thinking, she knows the pinkness works for many women.  And the second thing is that when she got the call to say that her partner was fading fast, she absolutley did not want to go to his bedside.  That she would never have got there in time is not relevant, I am really taken with Sarah's instinctive conviction that she simply would not go and see him die.  

What Sarah offers I feel, is another side of the experience of being bereaved.  Not everyone wants to go to the death bed.  Not everyone can do it.  And Sarah offers a very good and powerful account of why she didn't want to be soothed by the pinkness, she calls it, of breast cancer treatment and awareness.

The painting I want to do of Sarah is going to be different, I think.  It may be black and white.  Sarah suits the strength of black and white.  We did not film Sarah, but Eileen did photograph her and we did a very good interview.

So now.  Off to work.  I have much to do, and a possible visit next week to Sheffield to visit the University  in order to show the A Graceful Death exhibition at some point.  It would have to be in 2012 as this year is moving on so fast, and Birmingham is coming up where the exhibition will be showing for the whole month of November in St Martin in the Bullring.

So now, a big thank you this week to 

Eileen

Stuart

Sarah 

and to Neill for filming on Thursday.

Thank you.

Reflections and Distance. AGD Moves On.

This blog has been quiet these past few months.  The last exhibition was in Manchester, the last big thing was the making of the film.  I had work to do, and paintings to paint, and exhibitions to organise.  I became exhausted and I think you will all say And?  We could have told you that would happen.  I did become exhausted and had to put this exhibition down for a while.  When you are so very deeply involved with making paintings, writing writings and showing shows, you can become lost in it and I became lost.  And so, I put it all down and closed the door.  I put all the paintings in bubble wrap, turned them to the wall, avoided this blog and tried not to panic.  If I am not doing the AGD, I said to anyone who would listen, it will not exist.  Patience, they all replied.  It is time to rest.  You are not being sensible.  It won't go away, it will wait for you to gather your strength and your senses, and it is time to stop.

If it is possible to feel grief for an exhibition, I believe I felt it.  This whole thing, the A Graceful Death started at a time of terrible loss and sadness.  I think I put all of my feelings into the paintings, into the production of each exhibition, and each time, I felt I had made a difference.  Each time I thought Yes.  This works because we all share the same story and we all share the same experiences.  Dying happens to us all and somehow I can paint it.  I want to paint it.  I want to paint the end of life, what it looks like, what it feels like for us to watch and most of all to paint a person at the edge of death who is still here.  Look!  I am still here! I am alive and I look like this and I am still here!  Putting the exhibition down and leaving it alone has made me anxious, afraid, lonely and worried that I can't do it any more.  I have done the right thing though.  I have come back to it with a calmer, fresher mind and I am astonished that not only did I have to leave it alone for a few months, but that I could not see it coming.  And though I have been reflecting quite painfully on what I am doing, and full of doubts and anxiety, I am aware that I love this exhibition and the work I am doing so very much, that I must be careful to keep myself strong.  I am not dealing with easy stuff.  I am not making paintings that you can take or leave.  I am not sitting with people who are in a good place and often there is more pain and distress around my subjects than I can imagine.  And I am a jolly, fun loving upbeat kind of person.  Something had to give, and so it did and I have been away from this exhibition for a good two months.  

But!  Here is what I have been doing while reflecting and being out of the studio -

•  I am volunteering at my local hospice.  Mainly I make tea for anyone and everyone, and see what happens.  I love being there, and love how the nurses do their job.  Amazing stuff.
• I am going to meet Felicity Warner next week (www.soulmidwives.co.uk) and see if this is for me.  It may well be, I have no training at all.  No counselling/bereavement training, no medical training, not even art training.  (I didn't go to art school).  This meeting with Felicity may be where I can do something practical.  I have spoken with Felicity and liked her very much on the phone. I will see her in the first week of September.
• I have nearly finished the painting of Nushi Khan Levy.  I will post it here when I have tweaked it a bit.  I need to show Nushi first too, to check she is happy with it.
• This week Eileen (photographer and friend extraordinaire) is staying.  Together we are working with a very brave and sad man who is coming from Edinburgh to stay here, to discuss how we can paint the story of his wife for the next exhibition.  His wife killed herself and we are working now on the subject of suicide.  
• I am meeting another lady this week with a view to including her in the exhibition as not only is she a young widow, but she is a cancer survivor.  What she has to say will be very interesting.
• I put some ads in the the mainstream media, and have been contacted by a newspaper for a possible interview.  Hope that happens, fingers crossed.
• The film!  We are going to start editing it soon, and will present a much smaller film than we first thought.  This is another learning curve - we have to start small and work our way into big.  Hollywood next time.  It will be a great film though, just much shorter.  
• Sheffield University is interested in hosting the A Graceful Death exhibition.  I will be going up there to talk it over in September
• St James's in Piccadilly is still on the cards for Easter next year, 2012.  
• AGD goes to Birmingham in November, to the St Martin in the Bullring church and for that, I will be doing workshops with the wonderful poet Penny Hewlett.  I will show Nushi, and I hope the paintings of Stuart and his wife Sue, who killed herself.  And maybe Sarah, the young widow and cancer survivor.
• My friend, the artist and artist in residence at St Barnabas House Hospice in Worthing, Stevan Stratford, is joining the exhibition in Birmingham with one of his thoughtful and lovely pieces on "being here and not being here".  I am so delighted that he has agreed to add one of his own deeply intelligent pieces to AGD.
• And finally - Eileen is producing a book for AGD , full of her insightful photography and prose.  This is a very good thing.  Eileen is no lightweight, her work is excellent and her standards high.  I can't wait.

So now, with a calmer mind and a fresher approach, I will do the next stage of the A Graceful Death exhibition.  I have even found a quartet of young lads who sing and play the guitar so beautifully that I am plucking up courage to ask if they will play for the opening and closing nights at the AGD exhibitions.  More on that as it unfolds.

To end, I will tell you what my dream for AGD is.  

To exhibit in St Pauls Cathedral, with enormous reproductions of Eileen's photos placed free standing around the paintings.  To have Verdi's Requiem playing and to have our film showing in a separate space.  To have a new section of paintings and words on surviving bereavement and what really happened to each person taking part (bereavement sometimes makes you act in a wholly outrageous way.  What did people really do and think?) and a section of paintings and words from those who are at the last stages of their lives.  Verdi's Requiem will certainly keep people on their toes.  I want hundreds of people to come and take part, write in the Memory Book and to tell their stories.  I want people to write poetry and ponder.  Oh and I want tons of tea and cakes and places to sit.  All in St Pauls, all in the aisles, and I want lovely flowers and scented candles too.  And perhaps to film the whole thing.  

Blimey.  I don't want much, do I?