Making the film about breastfeeding
1.31pm (up since 6.45am, awake in night at 3am and 4am attending to Syd and Naoise)
Day stated hopeful and sunny, now dull, dismal drizzle.
Had a great morning working editing a film about breastfeeding with my talented kind friend and film maker. I needed some help, I have to try and complete it this week. I am realising how disorganised and adhoc I am. my friend is being very patient. I think my brain is all over the place. I found a folder with 217 images of breastfeeding in it. Need to sort it out for tomorrow. Its an interesting process collaborating with a film maker, he is so so fast at editing. I can edit but I am as slow as a snail. I get easily distracted, forget the why of the making process.
Think of the title On a mothers watch. Think a mothers observations. Always watching always delighting, always closely watching her children, being constantly amazed, looking closer, seeing something different, something new each day.
We drank a lot of coffee, thats necessary. I dropped him off at the bus stop. I am meant to be organising the images now, not writing this. Life is hectic, thats good, I don’t feel the need to eat my way through it with comfort food. Have been slipping into eating sugar once more, its hard to be totally strict about it, seeing as there is so much of it present. Aisles of chocolate temptations and puddings and gifts of buns.
Watching the images flick through time on the computer screen. Images of me breastfeeding my children. Life flashing by. Cringing at my face and voice on film. I don’t feel comfortable in front of a camera, so I am happy to cover the footage of me with footage of Naoise and Syd. The process of making is good, its my favourite bit, things always change, they never come out as you originally plan, art is not about control, its about allowing the media, the method and the meaning to work together, to decide the passage for you. The unexpected is the art. The art is outside of the self. Art isn’t selfish.
My friend showed me some illustrations by Arthur Wragg, in The Psalms for Modern Life, published by Selwyn & Blunt, London, 1933. I was struck by these beautiful images, how strange and moving they seem. I especially enjoy the image of the naked woman and baby lying beside an open oven door. So odd. It made me think of many things not ordinary things disturbing things a woman alone, suicide, death, concentration camps.
I don’t feel alone of sad or suicidal, I just felt drawn to the picture and what it might represent. I think it is the juxtaposition of the oven, the body of the woman and child in a domestic space. It is strange because women don’t lie naked on kitchen floors with naked babies whilst pans boil. It is strange. The pan is boiling. It is dangerous, it may tip on top of the woman and her child. Perhaps the image is more scary than strange.
Must stop need to go to get weighed at GP’s. I am cheating by not eating lunch till after the visit. I may weigh less on an empty stomach.