Anatomy of Thought

What did you think of when you saw that title? Most probably you were just like, anatomy...what? but it is, in fact, a title of an art exhibition. And, for once, something I came up with actually has some meaning to it. First off, though, this exhibition of art is one that my mum and I have done together. I wrote poems and gave them to her, then she would paint a combination of what the poem was about and her emotional reaction to it.
Originally it was called Paint the Dream, derived from a Van Gough quote, but then we realised it didn't fit. It is called Anatomy of Thought because after about the third painting, my mum pointed out that each piece of poetry had mentioned a body part (hence anatomy). I wasn't doing it on purpose, I had written most of them beforehand; it was just a coincidence. As art tends to be, the poems and paintings were about our ideas, memories, emotions and opinions; our thoughts.
Thus, Anatomy of Thought came to be. I made the comment earlier about it actually having meaning because usually, to be truculently honest with you, I just write, sometimes to rhyme, sometimes because I like the sound of the words or the expression; but usually there isn't a meaning, to me at least, or explanation behind my work.
Though, I don't feel bad about it, because Freddy Mercury said about Bohemian Rhapsody, that whenever people asked him what it was about, that he said that he didn't know, and that he liked the mystery of not knowing.

Anyway, this is what I wrote describing the show, In this exhibition of self-expression and dilemma of thought, two mediums collide to represent not only the connection between verse and painting, but also the relationship between mother and daughter.

We put it up in the gallery last Monday. My mother's paintings were all the same, long, slim, size, and my poetry was printed on A1 pieces of white paper. All the fonts were different. They were hung side by side in the room, and I must say, it looked very professional. My mum says she has grown as an artists because of this, and I feel the our friendship has developed, too. It has given me a real insight into what it's like to be an artist, and the stressfulness that is meeting deadlines and hanging a show.

It has given me something to be really proud of. I see my words hanging on the wall- for everyone to see, and everyone to judge, and I'm not embarrassed anymore. Yes, I wrote it; yes, it says things that not everyone wants to hear; but it's mine.
I'm so unashamed that in the very near future I am going to be posting pictures of the paintings, accompanied by the poems, and a description, including, what they mean and why I wrote them (if there's is a meaning or a reason); what they meant to my mother, and why my mum painted what she did.

(The above picture is Van Gough's Starry Night, painted in 1889, and below is the painting, The Sower, painted in 1888.)

"And he dreamed yet another dream, and told it his brethren, and said, Behold, I have dreamed a dream more; and, behold,
the sun and the moon and the eleven stars made obeisance to me."