Mimesis

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Mimesis is a word I’ll never forget, as it was written in capital letters on a whiteboard in blue, as the subject of my first ever writing class at university. I sat in the auditorium waiting for the lecturer to appear, wondering what on earth I was doing there, as I was a ‘mature’ student and didn’t have a clue what the word meant. I think after all these years I have got a handle on its meaning. It is when life is mimicked through Art and Literature. Yesterday I reversed this process, when my life happened to imitate literature – through inadvertently copying a character’s behaviour from the novel I am currently writing. The problem might be different: solo travel for my character, and swimming alone, for me, but the underpinning for both women is anxiety, and the desire to change.

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Pink roses can spell love too

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Roses by JFL Fowlds

If I hadn’t admired a friend’s post last week, where he posted a fine painting of flowers, I may not have thought of writing about the painting I have sitting on my study wall. There is a history to this painting of pink roses in an old-fashioned vase (circa late 1940s), which was possibly done as a study from an image in a book, or calendar. The book may have well been a ‘how to paint’ variety, showing step by step processes. My father clearly studiously emulated the image – whatever its provenance. The sketch, painted in watercolour on a primed piece of cardboard, was admired by those who saw it, including myself and siblings. I was a teen when my father died, and any art of his carries special meaning.

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