Image of the Week: Sea Mother
© D. Yael Bernhard
This maternal sea creature came to me during my third and final pregnancy. Once again I felt myself drawn into Creation, my body taken over by the forces of nature that connect all mammals. Images gestated easily in this diffuse and dreamy state. I was a vessel of life afloat in a primordial sea, with a tiny sea within my womb that was a microcosm of the one that surrounded me.
So active was my unborn daughter, I felt as if I were carrying a little seal. She flipped and cavorted almost constantly, resting only when I was active, as if she craved motion. Her swimming movements were a constant reminder of her growing presence, and my own immersion in the ocean of life. I gave her the nickname "Selkie", after the mythical seal-women that haunt the misty shores of Celtic folklore. My little Selkie was amorphous, unknown, not yet fully formed – just like me, as her mother.
Out of these musings came this curvilinear creature – both mother and child in a floating, embryonic state. The painting appeared in my mind as a complete image. The colors had a mind of their own: black and teal with a touch of periwinkle, murmuring of dark, watery depth.
After some pondering, I decided to use white outlines. For conceptual images like this one, white provides a powerful counterpoint to dark colors. These white lines can never be painted – they must be the paper showing through, which reflects light in a whole different way than white paint. This means patiently applying color along both edges of the white line, articulating the negative space around it rather than drawing it directly. Ideally, I would have carved these white lines from a linoleum block or an etching plate – but as a mother with two children and a third on the way, I couldn't possibly undertake the logistics of printmaking.
So I determined to render my black and teal, spiraling sea mother into form in gouache paint. I took advantage of the medium, creating gradients and patterns that can only be achieved with paint. Though the painting is small – only about 8" wide – I didn't find time to finish it until my infant daughter was almost four months old. She was much more fully formed by then than the squiggly little tadpole shown above . . . and I was continually being formed as her mother.
The name Selkie nearly stuck after my daughter was born – but not quite. I couldn't impose my mythological associations on her for life. Besides, Sage doesn't like swimming – at least, not yet.
But from time to time, I still privately think of her as my precious little seal-girl.
Happy Mother's Day to all my readers who've had the privilege of swimming the maternal sea, with its ever-changing waves, turbulent or calm, frothy or undulating, lapping or lashing. The adjectives of water seem like natural metaphors for motherhood.