I wanted to share my current work in progress. I’m not sure yet if this will be included in the series I’ve been working on, although I think it is somewhat related in concept. I have been reflecting on Death quite a bit in the past year and then I came across the painting “Death and the Maiden” by Marianne Stokes (I included the image below). It led me down a rabbit hole exploring the theme that was common in Renaissance art. I also came across the poem “Der und das Mädchen (Death and the Maiden)” by German poet Matthias Claudius, which was set to music by composer Franz Schubert and became one his most celebrated songs (I have also included this below in its original German and the English translation).
Death and the Maiden, Marianne Stokes 1908
When I think about death, as a woman, I often recall the story of Ophelia. I have depicted her in my work in the past and this piece is partly a reference to her story, her betrayal by patriarchal society which led to her death. I think Ophelia also comes to mind because I often think of water when I think about god. Water takes the shape of whatever vessel it is in, it ebbs and flows, it is in everyone and everything, it sustains all life on our planet, it rains down and resurrects once again, it baptizes, it takes many forms, and it has no gender. When I think of my own death, what I want in death, I always think of water and flowers. I don’t follow any specific religious philosophy, but I would describe my beliefs as falling in alignment with pantheism or, if we want to get more specific, they are closest to Taoism.
Ophelia, Sir John Everett Millais 1851-52
The personification of Death is both terrifying and comforting to me. It is frightening to think of the darkness of one’s life ending, of the unknown, but it is comforting to think of a guide who has come to lead you on your mysterious path. I don’t know if I believe in an afterlife, but I do believe that death will be a peaceful embrace. I don’t fear death. I do fear what my absence will do to those I leave behind. Death feels less terrifying than the pain of life, but I try to remind myself to flow like water, to notice all the beauty that is around me, to be constantly enthralled by all the small beautiful moments; to remember that amidst all of the pain in the world there is kindness, love, hope, fat bumblebees, blossoming flowers, warm embraces, anticipated homecomings, trees communicating with each other through vast fungal systems underground, and that the odds of even being born, let alone on this perfect planet in this perfect place in the universe, is a miracle in and of itself.
(German version)
Vorüber, ach, vorüber
Geh, wilder Knochenmann
Ich bin noch jung, geh, lieber
Und rühre mich nicht an
Und rühre mich nicht an
Gib deine Hand
Du schön und zart Gebild
Bin Freund
Und komme nicht, zu strafen
Sei gutes Muts
Ich bin nicht wild
Sollst sanft
In meinen Armen schlafen
_________________
(English version)
Over, oh, over
Go, wild boneman
I'm still young, go, dear
And don't touch me
And don't touch me
give your hand
You beautiful and delicate creature
am friend
And don't come to punish
Be of good cheer
I'm not wild
Should be gentle
sleeping in my arms