The Inspiration for this Blog comes from Greek Mythology. It is the story of how Persephone daughter of Zeus and Demeter was abducted by Hades of the underworld. Mourning her loss, Demeter searched for her daughter and while she searched nothing grew. The gods negotiated Persephones return..on the condition that she had not eaten anything while in the underworld..Persephone had eaten a few pomegranate seeds, so as a result when she returns to the underworld we have the season of fall and winter. For me, I use the symbol of Persephone and the Underworld as a metaphor for my descent into my basement. There I find relics of my past and I attempt to make order, discard what I no longer need and hope to emerge with order, clarity and insight. It is really a memoir project, since so much of my past resides down there.
Description of my Basement.
Winter came in early this year here in Minnesota. Faced with snow and cold 2 weeks BEFORE thanksgiving I carried on as did everyone else, with a feeling of stoic dread. It's Here, Winter is here.... and with that comes a feeling of isolation and Hibernation. What to do?
I always have plenty of creative projects and of course paintings to finish from the end of summer when the Amaranth blazed fiery red in my garden. That's long gone and the dead stalks are laying on the ground.
It would be easy to feel like a dead stalk too, but in winter something deeper stirs, even as the ice forms on the surface.
So I walk around my house and glance into my basement with dread. Time hangs a bit heavy, no matter how industrious one is and with the dark evenings coming in...what is there to do. I wonder half heartedly to myself....hmmm can I, will I tackle the basement....its menacing chaos lurks there at the bottom of the stairs as the cats scamper up and down on their way to eat or use the litter box. There was water in the basement this summer, although its perfectly dry now, but odd smells linger.
I stand at the top of the stairs. It is dark out, about 9 degrees above zero and like Persephone descending to her underworld I go down the basement stairs, determined that when the green leaves are on the trees and when the flowers grow and when Persephone once again dances in the upper world of greenery and growth. My basement will be clean and orderly....ready to retreat to as needed on hot summer days.
And thus I decided to treat the CLEANING OF MY BASEMENT as a form of memoir, for my whole life....kinda sorta is down there, ready to be revealed, organized or tossed out.
DESCRIPTION OF MY BASEMENT
It's a mess. Long a repository of my whole life stretching back in time, it has become the collection point for my junk, puppet shows, my dearly departed Dad's library, more junk, old records, tax receipts that I have not figured out what to do with, old rugs, art, framing supplies, a real nice old table, washer and non functioning dryer, cat litter boxes, bits of wood, photos, trash, piled up picnic baskets, old tables, school records, more books of my dad's, photo albums of my past, the past clustered in corners, and most of all the years all piled up in the form of stuff and junk. Tall metal shelves hold a lot of the stuff, once upon a time it was kind of orderly, but time passed and I just tossed stuff down there.
I could say more. There are boxes of holiday cards and birthday cards, layers and posters of Heart of the Beast puppet shows, moldy cardboard boxes, files of drawings from our place in Wisconsin, photos of my students who are now all grown up and married. The past, the past, the past.....all piled up.
I am overwhelmed by it all, so I just run down and clean the litter box as needed and run back upstairs to the safe routines of my creative life and practical life.... I avoid the basement....
Oh yeah, there's also a root cellar filled with semi useful glass vases that could hold enough flowers to make me forget winter...there are pots I have cooked in and pots I have not.
All the stuff of a life time and I am alive to be here, to have hoarded it and not used it or used it
and I am alive to have the courage to go down and deal with it .
What helps me now is to frame it in the form of a memoir. It often does not feel like it
even merits the glorious title of MEMOIR...more like hoarded junk and stuff...but I look deeper and there are treasures. I have had several journeys down to the basement and each time I have felt overwhelmed and exhausted....and yet each time I have found treasures, unbelievable treasures. Each descent of mine, each symbolic descent of Persephone brings a little more order, several garbage bags filled without a thought looking back and treasure upon treasure upon treasure. The past reveals itself.
Yes, I am alive and I can deal with it..slowly. I set the timer on the stove and I descend into the mysterious realm of my basement....to clean, to sort, to file, to throw. It looks like it's going to be a LONG Winter. I think I'll get it done.
I dedicate these first writings and musings to the memory of Brian who died yesterday. He was a vibrant soul who took deep risks in this life. A wonderful fiery, creative guy. Sometimes impossible, always ready to party. A guy who got off his death bed, dragged his morphine drip and catheter bag outside and powercleaned one side of his house. He took closeup photos of open beautiful flowers. They are beautiful and they linger, reminding us to be open to the blossoming life has to offer us. His death was long expected, but my how chilly the world feels without him. May his memory be only for a blessing. Thank you Brian for all that you were. Now as you soar beyond these earthly realms I think of you, remembering we don't take a damn bit of all this stuff with us, so don't leave it as a burden for those left behind.
Rest well Brian, party down now into eternity. We miss you.
You did it!!
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