SCREAMING GIVE US EQUALITY. art awakens memory

My mother in law's name is Saribenne Evesong. She is a retired artist, once a professional and fairly well known leader in the woman's art scene of Atlanta Georgia. She now lives with the knowledge that she has Alzheimer's and each memory holds a relief, a gift, and a blessing.

There is so much to know about her career, and so much to understand about the emotion behind her art. I am only becoming aware now of how important it is for us to document what we remember about her art, where it is, and what it means.

Encouraged by a friend of mind who is dealing with depression of her own, and a book I am finding so helpful right now, Learning to Speak Alzheimer's, I am trying to find ways to reach into Saribenne's mind, trying to pull out how she is feeling - what she is thinking - what she wants to remember.

Yesterday, we looked at some of her art. It was interesting and enlightening to notice what she recognized and what she didn't.

The piece shown here (upper right) is the piece we own that most typifies her work at the height of her career.

Today, I wondered what handling art supplies would do for her, what it would make her think. I laid out tubes of paints and papers and brushes, suggesting she paint whatever came to her mind.

She sat at the table with us for nearly 45 minutes. She chose colors: velvet purple, metallic gold, cobalt blue, and yellow ochre.

It was the yellow ochre that seemed to set her into thinking about her art, her past, her self. She held the tube in her hands and something happened.

She remembered her art and the emotion behind it. She became passionate about it for a few moments as she told me, "I remember that it was feminist, screaming give us equality."

FEMINIST SCREAMING GIVE US EQUALITY

I can't help but believe a part of her is screaming for equality now, that the memories she holds are related to the feelings she is experiencing now, as her ability to care for herself lessens more each day.

She never would put paint to paper, and it wouldn't be right to pressure her. I hope that someday she may again find art a healing way to reach her emotional spirit and thoughts.

After she walked away, I looked awhile at the colors she chose. They are the colors she would choose, reminding me of how much of her is still here.

I took it upon myself to put that paint on paper for her - to write down the words that she so passionately remembered today.

FEMINIST SCREAMING GIVE US EQUALITY.

It was a small piece of paper, one that she never noticed me painting on.

In the time it took me to write the word equality, she came into the room to check the atomic clock twice to check the date.