In addition I expirience a bunch of anger when she orders me boxes of useless food supplements and vitamins saying that Im too fat and “not in the mood”, then some day I find that inside the drawer right next to her bed there is an Icon and the tag that I was given in a hospital when I was born. And then I cry. She sits in a garden and drinks her tea from a mug with my picture on it. This mug was given to me from her 10 years ago and has some fancy sparkling roses photoshoped with my pic next to a christmas tree. 

Why didnt I ever use this mug? the print has deemed What if I don’t love my mother at all now when I am an adult? Do I have a right not to love her? I left home 10 years ago and coming back now I feel like we dont share any common values or interests. There is nothing we could really talk about like I do with my friends and at the moments of anger I dont feel like I need her at all, in fact I only wanna push her further; cause all she is as it seems to me are the attempts to cancel the eternal anxiety with endless and useless garden and house routines. 

 “Mom, all I wanna do is for you to get to know yourself better and live your own life with joy and responsibility only for yourself."- is what I am thinking but never saying. Is it setting up borders or trying to save her? “ we are so nicely laying on bed, she is ordering me these damn vitamins and could be so cool to set up the camera right there and just record”…but I cant. I pretend to sleep, yelling at my mom inside my head for her eternal attempts to fix me. At the beginning of the idea I expected that camera would bring me closer to my mom, 

“I wanna make a film about love”, I would be able to conceptualize her as a separacte human being and start loving her as an adult. Starting from empathy, wishing to ask her all the questions Ive never asked her before, dong the “mother-daughter” talk, now I feel like sometimes I am so angry at her I cant even look at the camera. 

Thoughts of how I would say her this and that, putting all the arguments into a nice logical list, are rolling in my head and not letting anything happen: neither my words, neither a story.

Personal blog

My mother keeps silence. Artist Marina Noskova

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