http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/This blog has grown out of my online artwork 'Mother to Mother' (www.mother-mother.com), made in collaboratiion with women across the world (starting in East Greenwich, UK). It is a space to articulate at more length what led up to and what happened during the project and what's come from it since it launched. It's inspired by my own transition into motherhood soon after losing my own mother. I invite you to be part of the artwork by joining the garden on the website I created and also join this blog (you will get an invitation when you plant something).I am interested to see what can be created from now until the garden is fully blossomed. Maybe we can create some kind of dialogue..en-EUMokoFeed10http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/http://data5.blog.de/design/preview/d7/08e00e82c06f87dc32557f9c00a987_160x200.jpghttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2008/01/10/2008_emerging_into_the_world~3556131/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2008-01-10:/2008/01/10/2008_emerging_into_the_world~3556131/Thu, 10 Jan 2008 13:25:43 +0100 <p>so this is the first week i actually feel i am not constantly attached to Moses, Delia or the washing..and that i can begin to contemplate re-occupying other parts of my identity..the artist for example. helen sent me an email reminding me that the Louise Bourgeois is closing next week, that its really tempting to stay in the comfortable womb of lewes but i will love it if i come up..and that triggered something, woke me up....then Janis from goldsmths asked me when i wanted to start the project and i realised that i actually have made a commitment this year to move my work forward-paid! - and its real, it has to happen. Thank god for the arts council money as without that it may have been easy to slip into semi-domesticated haze and feel rather lost and questioning. I can still be lost and questioning but with a purpose now!<br> There have been two post-natal events to date re my two projects- the Loom textile show and symposium at Goldsmiths which has helped create a team to work with and a start to the profile of the project and on monday the Mother to Mother feature finally went out on womans hour, over a year after it was made! a nice piece though rather without context- it wasnt made at all clear that the online piece is open to audience participation so i rather lost out on an opportunity there. But taking the attitude that everything happens as it should, there is still plenty of space for future growth...<br> I have no idea how these two projects will develop as I have never done this before- ie, continued to work with a project in order to expand it and create a touring model, but at least i am clear on the kind of people i want o engage with. also, it struck me yesterday that , contrary to the last three years where i have drawn directly on my life experiences to inform the central questions in the work with the audience and ask them to respond to those questions themselves, now my life is pretty calm and un-extraordinary from a presonal point of view-ie free of drama- that this time i should look beyond the inner circle to drawing on experiences and questions that are a step away from me, so that i am forced to move out of my comfort zone to understand how people who are in /have been in extraordinary states , such as in refuge/asylum or post natally depressed process and overcome or can be promoted to overcome through the work itself. Maybe if i didnt have the background of an artist i might have become a therapist or something but i realise my work has a healing purpose but needs to remain as art, to take people by surprise and also to give me and them the satisfaction of a persistent artefact tha can be shared with others long after the communal expereince of interaction with an audience has faded.<br> I think another thing i need to do is to learn a new skill, this maybe performance, weavng or something totally different, and also to use this year to set up my practice for the next five, in terms of approach to audience, contacts, representation , profile and real and beautiful 'things' that can circulate in a market or museum/gallery circuit.<br> thankyou universe for this great opportunity which i know given the present climate is a unique one-to be funded for a year to reasearch and develop work as an individual , is certainly a gift, and will require both focus and surrender to new , unexplored territories. And the courage to leave the comfortable womb of lewes more often than i might feel like..!having two children has changed everything and i must acknowledge that I am pushing boundaries and creating a very contemporary way of dealing with the working/living balance..i am blessed</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2008/01/10/2008_emerging_into_the_world~3556131/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>artist-motherhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2008/01/10/2008_emerging_into_the_world~3556131/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/10/04/the_birth_blessing_pomegranates_and_rose~3082719/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2007-10-04:/2007/10/04/the_birth_blessing_pomegranates_and_rose~3082719/Thu, 04 Oct 2007 10:50:01 +0200 <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=2030668" title="birthblessing-pampering"><img src="http://data1.blog.de/media/668/2030668_c33588909a_s.jpeg" alt="birthblessing-pampering" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><br> It's autumn now...and i am almost fully pregnant...we planted a pomegranate tree in the front garden, it was like planting my mother as i have such strong associations with her and that fruit. Her story of picking them from their orchard in Namin, throwing one against the wall to soften it and then piercing it to suck out the juice, feeling it hit the back of the neck..delicious...a ritual i try to pass on whenever i can..(the method of eating, rather than the picking of course..)<br>On Saturday there was a Birth Blessing Circle for me here with about 20 of my female friends,(mainly local) facilitated by Maria. We began by drinking pomegranate and rosewater. I had never heard of Birth blessings (or Blessingways as they are called in the US) but I knew i needed to be encircled by a loving community of women, as mum is not here this time around to encircle me like she did in 2004. <br>It was an extraordinary experience and enabled me to let go of my last birth experience, acknowledge my mum and my ancestors as present in the process, create a way of being for this birth - abandon and acceptance! And, while being pampered and sung to by everyone, open up to the support and love of a warm gathering of great women from all eras of my life. It took place in the front room, where i will be labouring, which now feels like a very powerful and ready space. We feasted afterwards together with the men and children who joined us and I had made salmon with dill and rice, the dish mum used to make at large gatherings. It will soon be three years since she left this world and Delia arrived. <br><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=2030669" title="birthblessing-altar"><img src="http://data1.blog.de/media/669/2030669_d4dad75093_s.jpeg" alt="birthblessing-altar" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/10/04/the_birth_blessing_pomegranates_and_rose~3082719/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>the-persian-gardendear-delia-to-my-daughtermy-mum-and-ihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/10/04/the_birth_blessing_pomegranates_and_rose~3082719/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/04/30/the_sound_of_a_wave~2184000/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2007-04-30:/2007/04/30/the_sound_of_a_wave~2184000/Mon, 30 Apr 2007 10:08:09 +0200 <p>We spent Saturday on Camber Sands. It's a childhood summer haunt of mine, but Leo and Delia's first visit. It was sunny and blissful, being on a vast expanse of sand. dunes behind us, sea far ahead in front. We had a windbreak and a picnic and felt like a real little family growing, my belly ripening under the sun.<br> The sea was miles out so we took a long walk to meet it and splashed around in the cool shallow water, squinting our eyes and mashing the sand between our toes. I got hit by pregnancy fatigue and decided to walk back, leaving Leo an Delia to paddle and run through the waves. A few minutes later, with my back turned to them, and the thunderous sound of the wind in my ears, I had a deja vue and felt panic. The sound of the wind could have been the sound of a wave and I turned to check they were still there. I think the fact that there had been an earthquake just along this coast in Folkestone the day before had some influence! I suddenly got - to a small degree - what it must have been like for Reg to have seen Mum for the last time on that beach in Phuket and then turn and never see her again. I started to shake, then reminded myself it wasn't real, and walked away from the past back to the shore. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/04/30/the_sound_of_a_wave~2184000/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dear-delia-to-my-daughtergriefmy-mum-and-ideathtsunamihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/04/30/the_sound_of_a_wave~2184000/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/04/30/a_whole_world~2183935/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2007-04-30:/2007/04/30/a_whole_world~2183935/Mon, 30 Apr 2007 09:54:27 +0200 <p>When mum died, a whole world died with her.<br> Last week, I visited what remains of part of her world - her friends - and I took Delia to meet some of her dearest Iranian friends at Jila's house. Jila knew Mum since before i was born and I always liked her . I think she was one of the few who didn't squeeze our cheeks till they were red...<br> We sat and had gorgeous Iranian food, while Delia ran around on the grass with bluebells as her backdrop. I let the music of a language that I only half know soothe me...and Delia to get that passionate kind of loving attention only Iranian women know how to give in that totally expressive way. I had some moments of overwhelming pain come in through the soothing feeling of being there, and could almost hear her voice among the melee of voices telling jokes, stories, gossip - all the juicy stuff Mum liked, which would have been spiced up with a good dose of political argument if she had been there.<br> Sometimes it's so easy to feel her around us, and at others she feels so far gone on her journey it's hard not to feel totally alone, like a child waiting for the sound of her mothers voice to make its way round the corner, accompanied by the smell of saffron and lilies. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/04/30/a_whole_world~2183935/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dear-delia-to-my-daughtergriefmy-mum-and-ihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/04/30/a_whole_world~2183935/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/03/20/nowruz_mobarak~1942463/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2007-03-20:/2007/03/20/nowruz_mobarak~1942463/Tue, 20 Mar 2007 21:07:44 +0100 <p>Dear Mama,<br> It was your birthday yesterday and today is the eve of Nowruz (Persian New Year), your absolute favourite time of year. I have made a Haft Seen in the corner of the front room, using your red and gold cloth and the silver dishes with the seven 'seen' things-except I cheated a bit, it's got an English bent to it which you would probably smile at. My Nanny and Aunt spent the day here, I needed that female family connection to get me through - four generations in the front room, it felt good and safe somehow.<br> It's been a triple one because Sunday, the day before your birthday, was also Mothers Day. I sat having breakfast with Delia and found myself weeping. She looked at me, your two year old grand-daughter, and asked for a hug. Then she sat stroking my face and kissing me as I explained why I was so sad and how you were in the sea now. 'It's ok mummy, it's alright' were the healing words she spoke, amazing how it lightened things up. Feels right to be honest with her, and authentic about my grief when it arises. Later on she looked at me and asked 'Your mummy?' as if to say, are you ok about your mummy now? Children know everything. Happy New Year Mama. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/03/20/nowruz_mobarak~1942463/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dear-delia-to-my-daughtermegriefmy-mum-and-ihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2007/03/20/nowruz_mobarak~1942463/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/12/26/two_years_on_today_letter_to_my_mother~1482164/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-12-26:/2006/12/26/two_years_on_today_letter_to_my_mother~1482164/Tue, 26 Dec 2006 23:30:10 +0100 <p>Boxing Day-second anniversary of your death. We did a latihan (spiritual exercise we do in subud) for you...I sang out the sorrow of a thousand deaths, it was deep and almost unbearably, sublimely sad. But withpow erful and beautiful passages. Raphaella felt you had transformed from a fish into a bird...free, in a good space. We did the latihan on a sunflower rug that Tuti had knotted herself, the same one from two years ago , when we happened to be in Brighton and Lewes for the holidays when the Tsunami struck and before we moved back here. A kind of preview of the life we were coming to, in this same street, enabled by your passing and the resources you left us to be able to buy this house and live in this loving community. Sunflowers were your absolute favourite flower.<br> We all met (the Iranian side of the family and Sue, one of your favourite friends of mine) at Birling Gap, where we scattered your ashes in the sea, as you requested, flown over from Thailand. It's a gorgeous place, you chose well. Even the cafe where we sat and had tea and crisps, so completely 1960's england, like it must have been when you lived in that area. Delia tried to make sandcastles in the freezing wind, and we cast a flower Sue gave me for you and a crown of ivy from Raphaella, into the waves. I didn't sense you there, its like you are very faraway now, you're spread far and wide or something, not so connected to one place but everywhere and in everything, I felt your embrace in my imagination and heard your voice, and cheeky laugh of reassurance that everything will be ok<br> I cooked Fesinjan for Khaleh Goli, Koosha, Sanaz, Fariba Leo and Delia. Never as delicious as yours, but you did have 30 years more practice <img src="/img/smilies/icon_smile.gif" alt=":)" class="middle" border="0">. We ate and joked in our cosy kitchen and drank champagne on your honour. We didn't talk about you much directly , but you were present.Khaleh Goli's hair is an amazing white gold colour now, you would like it. Strange I will never get to see what you look like as an old woman, say 80 or something. Just as you wanted.<br> I got so many texts and messages today, felt a lot of love coming to me and us from all over the world.<br> I was helped to see today that I don't need to fill a space left by you, because the whole landscape has changed and there is nothing to be done about that, except be fully myself within it and embrace what comes.<br> More and more I sense myself growing up with this. I will always be your child. I will always feel waves of sadness come and go, but I know what works is to live a life full of the qualites i most loved in you: generosity, freedom of spirit, love , creativity, passion. Sometimes it will be like that and sometimes it won't. And thats ok.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/12/26/two_years_on_today_letter_to_my_mother~1482164/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>deathmy-mum-and-itsunamigriefmehttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/12/26/two_years_on_today_letter_to_my_mother~1482164/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/12/11/snow_falling_in_an_empty_house~1425226/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-12-11:/2006/12/11/snow_falling_in_an_empty_house~1425226/Mon, 11 Dec 2006 12:51:33 +0100 <p>(From journal, 22.3.005)<br> Dear Delia,<br> today we drove (You, I, your dad, our friend Brianne who has come to be with us) to Papa Jaaan (my mothers) house for the first time since she died. It was strange, everything was just as it was before she left, except for the piles of mail, the christmas cards still on the mantelpiece and the cold- no heating. </p> <p>As i sat and fed you on the sofa, feeling sad she was not there, (tho it felt like she might walk in the doorway any moment) , it started to snow. Looking through the panoramic bay windows in front of me, beautiful , huge snowflakes swirling around outside against the green. I felt it was HER - in the snowflakes, visiting us for 10 minutes in a burst of energy, true to style. Fleeting, but reassuring.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/12/11/snow_falling_in_an_empty_house~1425226/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tsunamimemy-mum-and-ideathhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/12/11/snow_falling_in_an_empty_house~1425226/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/10/27/the_smell_of_saffron~1269329/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-10-27:/2006/10/27/the_smell_of_saffron~1269329/Fri, 27 Oct 2006 23:27:41 +0200 <p>Have been away in switzerland and france, travelling on trains with leo and delia. It was quite a journey, inside and out. On returning home, from sunny southern france to the heavy rain of lewes, we noticed some small lilac shoots in the front garden which we overturned ths summer after pulling up a dying rosebush which was taking it over.<br> Kate next door told me, with a spooky undertone, that they are saffrom crocuses - crocuses in autumn? A small gift from mum: I pulled out the saffron stamen from one and rolled it between my fingers until they went deep yellow then took a deep sniff. They are the exact kind Mum and I saw in Mashad when we travelled to Iran in 1992- a memory of the smell of saffron, burnt crimson bunches in huge, shiny glass jars, lodged on shelves in immaculate white and mirrored stores came back to me. She grows all around me, in nature and through it..</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/10/27/the_smell_of_saffron~1269329/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>memy-mum-and-ihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/10/27/the_smell_of_saffron~1269329/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_saying_goodbye~1111775/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-09-09:/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_saying_goodbye~1111775/Sat, 09 Sep 2006 21:52:45 +0200 <p>(from journal 19.2.2006)<br> I dreamt about mum again (what a time..). Me, simon, fariba, farid and Reg (her boyfriend who survived) and Mum were all together in Thailand. I was out there teaching an art class. It was mums birthday, march 19th - and we wanted to celebrate. She was spending time with Simon and i knew it would be her last night and we would find her dead the next morning. She lay down in a round row-boat,very sleepy,and i tried to keep her awake so she would talk and say goodbye. But she was already asleep.<br> Then , the next day, we went down tot he waterfront and she was in the rowboat spinning around on the water, the size of a tealite candle (she used to love those). she was kneeling with her hands clasped above her head, dead but smiling. I started howling 'mama, mama' and wanted to reach the boat but couldn't, it just kept spinning. I woke up crying 'mama' with you, delia in my arms. You are smiling.And Leo kissing me and crying too.<br> In the dream, mum died in her sleep.<br> I suppose that is the closest i may come to seeing her body.They are DNA testing 7000 bodies in Thailand at the moment. It will take 250 days.</p> <p>But i will keep her alive for you delia. She had so much love and energy to give you and i will honour her by always loving and giving you all i can, taking you to iran when the time is right, and keeping persian culture alive in your life. When she held you in her arms just after you came into the world, Keri your godmother said that she seemed totally, utterly fulfilled-you were a dream of hers for many years, finally manifested. Ina conversation with Simon, your uncle, when he commented that she must be excited at the prospect of seeing you grow up, she said soberly 'the main thing is the see her born'.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_saying_goodbye~1111775/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dreams-of-hertsunamideathmy-mum-and-idear-delia-to-my-daughterhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_saying_goodbye~1111775/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_saying_goodbye~1111773/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-09-09:/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_saying_goodbye~1111773/Sat, 09 Sep 2006 21:51:17 +0200 <p>(from journal 19.2.2006)<br> I dreamt about mum again (what a time..). Me, simon, fariba, farid and Reg (her boyfriend who survived) and Mum were all together in Thailand. I was out there teaching an art class. It was mums birthday, march 19th - and we wanted to celebrate. She was spending time with Simon and i knew it would be her last night and we would find her dead the next morning. She lay down in a round row-boat,very sleepy,and i tried to keep her awake so she would talk and say goodbye. But she was already asleep.<br> Then , the next day, we went down tot he waterfront and she was in the rowboat spinning around on the water, the size of a tealite candle (she used to love those). she was kneeling with her hands clasped above her head, dead but smiling. I started howling 'mama, mama' and wanted to reach the boat but couldn't, it just kept spinning. I woke up crying 'mama' with you, delia in my arms. You are smiling.And Leo kissing me and crying too.<br> In the dream, mum died in her sleep.<br> I suppose that is the closest i may come to seeing her body.They are DNA testing 7000 bodies in Thailand at the moment. It will take 250 days.</p> <p>But i will keep her alive for you delia. She had so much love and energy to give you and i will honour her by always loving and giving you all i can, taking you to iran when the time is right, and keeping persian culture alive in your life. When she held you in her arms just after you came into the world, Keri your godmother said that she seemed totally, utterly fulfilled-you were a dream of hers for many years, finally manifested. Ina conversation with Simon, your uncle, when he commented that she must be excited at the prospect of seeing you grow up, she said soberly 'the main thing is the see her born'.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_saying_goodbye~1111773/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dreams-of-herdeathmy-mum-and-idear-delia-to-my-daughtertsunamihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_saying_goodbye~1111773/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_continued~1111739/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-09-09:/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_continued~1111739/Sat, 09 Sep 2006 21:37:35 +0200 <p>(from journal 8.2.2005)<br> I dreamt of my mum- she was cooking in the next room and i came in, in case she disappeared.She was in pink. I told her 'i love you..do you love me?' and hugged her. She was detached but said yesi i think. I said 'I miss you'..at that point she was in blue and just glided by, untouchable.<br> The she was at the stove again and turned on the gas flame, a high flame. I asked if she wanted us to set up a memorial fund in her name, and she just disappeared.<br> What was that saying ..'in the face of death, have no attachment or aversion'?- i guess its the only way to be free of this world,in the next world.<br> Also, she cant answer my questions anymore - i have to find my own answers. This feels so sad, and i miss her so much.</p> <p>The second part of the dream i remember was in a house with a lot of people-the same people? Lots of them got gassed and died- by accident i think-but i survived along with a few others.I looked into the mirror to check i was alive, i wanted to live, to wake up and live.</p> <p>Today is a beautiful sunny day and its Leo's birthday, my love. And Delia's head has grown a bit overnight! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_continued~1111739/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dreams-of-hermy-mum-and-itsunamideathdear-delia-to-my-daughterhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us_continued~1111739/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us~1111722/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-09-09:/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us~1111722/Sat, 09 Sep 2006 21:28:26 +0200 <p>(from journal 30.1.2005)<br> Your uncle Simon dreamt last week that Papar Jaan (my mum, your grandma) came to him to ask him what had happened on her death - what was the story? He told her , and she was apparently taken aback , but amused too...she was all in deep pink (the colour of protection), which is the colour i have started wearing every day, before i knew of this dream. </p> <p>Also, i dreamt that i was searching for mums soul in the Valley of Death (how much more biblical can you get..!). A valley through which were passing all the souls of the people who died in the Tsunami. I went towards one who i thought was her. and as i did, the shadows of the souls, including hers, passed through my body-warm and moist. I was totally unafraid.</p> <p>And finally, Leo (your papa) dreamt last week that he was negociating thee number of years he and I have left togethr in this life: 43 years, then it would seem as if it was over..but we would have a remaining 7 years wonderful years together- so 50 in all! That will mean i would live to be 86..and you, delia would be 50 when i die..and your dad 82. What will the world look like then? </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us~1111722/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>deathmy-mum-and-itsunamidreams-of-herdear-delia-to-my-daughterhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/dreams_all_around_us~1111722/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/the_moment_of_death~1111704/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-09-09:/2006/09/09/the_moment_of_death~1111704/Sat, 09 Sep 2006 21:20:45 +0200 <p><strong>'At the moment of death, abandon all thoughts of attachment or aversion' - Buddha</strong></p> <p>..maybe this why mum left us without us being present?</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/the_moment_of_death~1111704/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>memy-mum-and-ideathtsunamihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/09/09/the_moment_of_death~1111704/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/28/grief~1077804/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-08-28:/2006/08/28/grief~1077804/Mon, 28 Aug 2006 22:03:47 +0200 <p>Now the rage has died down, and after my last counselling session and latihan, I am finding a way to be with the deep, deep sadness that has risen up over the death of my mother, and sits as a blue sapphire liquid in a delicate glass goblet in the centre of my chest. A lot of the time I take myself away from it,(with DO-ing) but I am finally, simply allowing it to BE and express itself. Quiet moments, late at night like this, give it space. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/28/grief~1077804/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>my-mum-and-itsunamigriefmedeathmother-to-motherhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/28/grief~1077804/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/22/in_the_eye_of_the_storm~1060782/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-08-22:/2006/08/22/in_the_eye_of_the_storm~1060782/Tue, 22 Aug 2006 21:09:56 +0200 <p><a href="http://www.mother-mother.com">The Mother to Mother project</a>, now that it is online and i am simply maintaining the garden rather than creating it, has given me a prickly gift: of realising that what I went through 21 months ago when I lost my mum just after Delia arrived, was a trauma. I havent wanted to use that word, i think because i associate it with being a victim, with my mother being a victim of the tsunami, and i refuse to think of her like that. She would never have used that word about herself, and it felt like a lack of respect for her to put her in that 'category'. </p> <p>However it's meant that, now the shock has worn off and i can actually see that a lot of anger is rising in me, i have had no framework within which to deal wth the almost visceral pain of losing her. So i started psycho-synthesis counselling in an attempt to deal with the rage spilling into my every day life and becoming unhandleable now there is space for it to do so. I have felt like an angry teenager who does not want to grow up and be the good girl/wife/mother' she was always supposed to be, or to deal with it all so well and be congratulated on that time and time again. Sometimes i just want to be angry, upset, pissed off .. and that be ok. (mainly with me).</p> <p>The drawing i made during the first session last week looked like this - a huge storm in the sea, a large gaping mouth (i called 'Roar') under the crest of the wave. It is hovering over and screaming at a female figure standing on a green clifftop in the left in the foreground. She is attached to a dead child floating on the right side of the page in the water by a long thin red thread. Beyond the raging tsunami, in the distance, is a calm, golden, unoccupied landscape.</p> <p>When I react in anger, its like being in the eye of the storm - uncontrollable anger and chaos.</p> <p>Remember to stand with your feet in the grass, you can talk to Roar.</p> <p>The child in me feels dead, separate.</p> <p>I won't go into what we talked about, i think that image says a lot.</p> <p>After the session i wanted to sleep but was with Delia so i did couldn’t. We went for a walk with Raphaella and family to Seven Sisters, Cuckmere Haven. I was very wiped out, a migraine slowly brewing.<br> When we came finally to the beach, i looked up at the green and white cliffs and the sea and realised it was the setting of my drawing that morning. And also the place near where we scattered mum's ashes (Birling Gap). On arriving home, i got very ill-raging migraine and violent throwing up, shaking and groaning like an animal. Releasing the Roar I guess, and dehydration. Leo was away finishing his film, which made me feel even more enraged, luckily Raphaella looked after us....</p> <p>The next day, the anger was less but still there. Leo sent me out of the house the next day after hearing me snap at delia- 'You're not that kind of mother-get out'. Thank god he did. I went straight to the Subud house and got support. Let go of a lot and will return every week for a special latihan to help tame the tiger in me....</p> <p>That night I dreamt that it was the end of the world. I was in New York, in a room within a tower block that had been blown up like all the buildings around it, and we were falling through space in this room. A few people i knew were with me. Despite the terror of the situation, something in me knew i would survive this, that it wasn't the end. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/22/in_the_eye_of_the_storm~1060782/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>mother-to-mothertsunamideathmy-mum-and-imehttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/22/in_the_eye_of_the_storm~1060782/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/14/great_nanny_memorial_preparations~1040156/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-08-14:/2006/08/14/great_nanny_memorial_preparations~1040156/Mon, 14 Aug 2006 23:58:35 +0200 <p>(26th January 2005)<br> Dear Delia,<br> We are at 100 Springfield rd, Southborough, Tunbridge Wells, staying with your great nanny (my dad's mum) in the house where, (unbeknown to her when she moved in) her own mother was born and where she will most probably die.<br> Your uncle Simon (my brother) and I took you to the High Rocks Inn to book in the Tribute to your granmother Papar Jan, to celebrate her life and death on Saturday 19th March (her birthday and just before Nowrooz, the Persian new year and her favourite celebration).<br> You sat so calmly in the restaurant while we ate and talked..you are a very peaceful soul and seem to know when i need space. Dark platinum blonde hair, the longest legs and fingers, little nose and cupid lips. You hate traffic lights, howl whenver we stop at a set. You love music and movement and being smiled at...your range of focus is increasing fast, i wonder what you can see exactly?</p> <p><strong>Mums tribute:notes</strong><br> Champagne and persian hors d'oeuvres<br> 200 sunflowers<br> Fuchsia pink decor > candles, muslin, napkins<br> Rumi poems and photos of mum<br> Sofreh - ask delaram to prepare.<br> Sufi music<br> Zoroastrian symbols<br> Map of iran<br> Colours of iran</p> <p><strong>food:</strong><br> whole cooked poached salmon, persian bread. spring onion, sabsi, paneer.<br> dates, walnuts, kookoo, pistachios, olives, gaz, shirini</p> <p><strong>notes on my speech:</strong><br> - only this year , after delia, did i know what it took to bring me into the world, did she bless our marriage and see her first grandchild arrive.<br> -forgiveness<br> what's her legacy? what can be learnt from her life?<br> -speaking her mind, compassion, generosity, pure love<br> - inseparable > food, home and safety<br> - poilitical commitment- freedom, communication and integrity. love of her country<br> - pleasure in life to the full and ability to forgive ad move on, lightnes of being<br> -sensuality, dirty jokes..<br> - sharing her cultural traditions and history<br> - ability to relate to younger generations - eg iranian students, us.<br> - irrepressible. action, not just talk.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/14/great_nanny_memorial_preparations~1040156/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tsunamimy-mum-and-idear-delia-to-my-daughterdeathdreams-of-herhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/14/great_nanny_memorial_preparations~1040156/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/12/missing_present~1034855/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-08-12:/2006/08/12/missing_present~1034855/Sat, 12 Aug 2006 21:38:11 +0200 <p>(Jan 21st, 2004)<br> Delia, your Papar jan, a pisces whose wish was to be cremated and have her ashes thrown into the sea near Eastbourne when she died, is still missing, presumed dead. </p> <p>She came to your uncle Simon in a dream this week to ask him what happened, what the story of her death was? So he told her. She was taken aback a little, but also somewhat amused, and iis n good humour, a good space apparently. She was all in deep pink. Funny because I bought loads of pink clothing last weekend (and i never normally wear pink) and have been wearing it everyday.<br> Bless Papar jans soul, may she be guided to her ultimate resting place. I will miss her so much and the times we would hae spent together, the three of us.But i know she is with you and I in spirit always..<br> Delia, i call you boo-boo at the moment , can't help it. 7 week old golden angel, becoming more and more alert every day...and starting to smile back at us..especially in the mornings, when you lie naked on the lambskin on our bed (where you sleep at night, sometimes between us, sometimes to one side) and i give you a gentle massage, we smile and coo and you wave your head back and forth like Stevie Wonder. Wondering at the world opening up to you.And i bounce you on the pilates ball to calm you when you cry, and you put your golden haired head on my chest, your soft delicate body in my hands, me , your privileged guardian.<br> The most beautiful, delicate features, a pixie nose, dark blue eyes and cupid lips..a long body amd the most elegant, long fingers..will you be an artist? you have such a calm, mellow nature, you are all potential. </p> <p>Such a gift at such an intense and sad time..grief balanced by joy , balanced by grief again.</p> <p>Stuart Deeks, our homeopath,said that Mums energy is transformed through death like rain into a cloud. I saw this very image the next day as Maria, you and I climbed over the hill in Brighton towards the sea. He says he saw her 'in me' and itis true i have felt her energy very close to me.<br> If only she were here, cooking...I only have the empty rice cooker she left with me till her next visit. I will honour her by perfecting the favourite dishes she used to make (she made them all in the week before you arrived, some are still in the freezer, ready for this time)..fesinjan, gormeh sabsi, galieh mahi,kookoo sabsi. She was the greatest cook. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/12/missing_present~1034855/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>deathdreams-of-hermy-mum-and-idear-delia-to-my-daughtertsunamihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/12/missing_present~1034855/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/09/when_i_miss_mum~1027427/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-08-09:/2006/08/09/when_i_miss_mum~1027427/Wed, 09 Aug 2006 23:46:57 +0200 <p>(jan 16th, 2005)<br> When I miss mum, i will make 'katchi', which she made for me in the early mornings before, during and after your birth in the kitchen at Maygrove rd. It's persian and made of melted butter, ground rice,saffron and honey. Comfort and safety.The loss of mum is the loss of the most solid emotional supprt I ever had, of the most extraordinary mother, friend and protector. Thankyou mum for giving me the gift of life and for helpng me give that gift to Delia, for nurturing me before during and after her birth. She is so exquisite and i know will carry many of your qualities.</p> <p>(re-reading this is strange as it's so suffused with the euphoria of becoming a mother, more than the sobering feeling i imagine one gets through grief without anything else to soften it) </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/09/when_i_miss_mum~1027427/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tsunamideathmy-mum-and-idear-delia-to-my-daughterhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/09/when_i_miss_mum~1027427/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/09/my_mother_s_death_dreams_and_signs~1027419/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-08-09:/2006/08/09/my_mother_s_death_dreams_and_signs~1027419/Wed, 09 Aug 2006 23:36:52 +0200 <p>(Jan 10th 2005)<br> Have been finding it hard to find space to write about what has been happening.But i must record this-last night Mum was in my dream.A younger version of herself with jet black hair, less aged -she was <em>simpy being with us,</em>her beautiful, comforting self. I knew she was dead but she was visible as a living presence.<br> This weekend we went to visit Reg (her boyfriend of 5 years who was with her in Phuket and survived-they adored each other).Leo, delia, farid, fariba, massoud , simon and I.It was actually lovely to see him but so, so sad that she was not there...We agreed to wait to celebrate her life, not mourn her death.<br> The more we talk about it,the clearer it is there were signs -the dream she told us about 3 months ago that she experienced a tidal wave coming to take her away on a beautiful beach...with the comment 'what an amazing way to die'. and simon (your uncles) dream soon after hers of he and I on a beach waving her goodbye as she got taken by the sea.Her phone calls to all of us on christmas day, the day before she died. Simon missed her first call and prayed desperately for her to call back in case he never saw her again, he thought he was being irrational at the time...she did call back thank god.<br> I wish i had told her in that phone call how much i loved her-but i know too she knew and we had just spent so much beautiful close time together before she died, preparing for your arrival, during and just after your birth. Perfecting our relationship. I have landmark to thank for that.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/09/my_mother_s_death_dreams_and_signs~1027419/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tsunamideathdreams-of-herdear-delia-to-my-daughtermy-mum-and-ihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/09/my_mother_s_death_dreams_and_signs~1027419/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/09/your_grandmother~1027404/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-08-09:/2006/08/09/your_grandmother~1027404/Wed, 09 Aug 2006 23:23:40 +0200 <p>(Jan 4th 2005)<br> Delia,<br> Your beloved granmother, Papar Jan, was swept away by the by the great tsunami in south east asia > phuket island on 26th december 2004, last week. I am numb. What a huge loss-she adored you so much and had waited for your arrival for many years .She will always be with you my love.<br> <strong><br> Rumi says:</strong><br> <em>Are you jealous of the oceans generosity?<br> why would you refuse to give<br> this joy to anyone?<br> Fish don't hold the sacred liquid in cups!<br> they swim in the huge fluid freedom</em></p> <p>When the wave came, it took the sea out first and left the fish on the sand. Your Papar Jan, not realising what was going to happen, rushed to pick up the fish and put them back in the sea. Rescuing to the last. Rest in peace.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/09/your_grandmother~1027404/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tsunamidear-delia-to-my-daughterdeathmy-mum-and-ihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/09/your_grandmother~1027404/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/07/your_name~1021748/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-08-07:/2006/08/07/your_name~1021748/Mon, 07 Aug 2006 23:39:53 +0200 <p><strong>Delia Shadi Azadeh Sedgley</strong> We knew it had to start with D-E-L. Del means ;heart; in farsi. The shortlist was Delilah, Delara (mums favourite), Delphi, Della,Delphine. In the end, it was clear your name was Delia, though it wasnt the name we liked or wanted. Leo and Fredrik did the work to receive the name and i stayed quiet in the bedroom , feeding you. They felt Delia fit your nature - calm hearted, comfortable, like seaweed on the bottom of the ocean swaying and flowing.At ease. <em>Delia</em> also comes from Cordelia , which means 'daughter of the sea'. And from psychedelia, which means colours of the mind , so 'many colours'. <em>Shadi </em>means 'happiness' in farsi, my mum (Papaar Jan) chose it. <em>Azadeh</em> means she or he who is free. <em>Sedgley </em>- from sedge-lea , a type of grass found in marsh. Lili Simosson, your european godmother, reminded me that, before your birth, she connected with you and received two names: Balthazar for a boy and Delia for a girl....funny because i didnt like the name Delia at the time i totally forgot to write that event down, but its a powerful one and the reason we asked her to be your godmother too- and what a loving one she is. <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/07/your_name~1021748/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dear-delia-to-my-daughterhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/07/your_name~1021748/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/07/you_were_born~1021738/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-08-07:/2006/08/07/you_were_born~1021738/Mon, 07 Aug 2006 23:29:03 +0200 <p><strong><strong>You were born from the very depths of my being, amidst howls and roars of extraordinary and sublime pain..only you,my darling daughter, were worth the torture my body endured, a truly extreme rite of passage...</strong><br> (copied from journal entry: Monday 6th December 2004)</p> <p><em>Bia, bia/dellary - man/dar-o dar-o/dar kar-e-man/to-ee, to-ee, golzar-e-man/begoo, begoo asrar-ey-man' (Shahrem Nazeri lyrics)</em><br> This music and these words just came on..the music we played when you first started to send me contractions that night...and i have just broken down in tears, so overwhelmed by the power of the experience..and the love i feel for you. Thankyou for choosing us as your companions through this life,your loving protectors when needed, we will do all we can to love, respect and honor your humanity and beautiful soul...our peaceful bundle of love.</p> <p>You are lying on the sofa here beside me, it is mid-morning on your fourth day of existence.The room is alive with fresh-cut flowers, the reds, oranges, yellows and blues of the persian rugs, fleeces, throws, paintings and photos which make our little paradise here.<br> You are sleeping peacefullly, placed on a big comfy white pillow and wrapped in your godmother's yellow peach cotton baby blanket.You have brought sweet milk to my breast ( a load of it!) and love to our hearts,So many people have been waiting for your arrival, most of all us...<br> You were almost five months in my belly when your father, leo, and I got married (31st july) at /Loudwater Farm under a blue moon, a boling beautiful summer day in the open air as iw alked through arches of roses, red on green grass, with 250 friends + family witnessing us. Towards your father waiting by the river with tears in his eyes and snappy pink shoes.You witnessed our blessing and words of commitment to each other...</p> <p>Maria was at the birth in spirit. She saw a lotus flower opening.</strong> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/07/you_were_born~1021738/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dear-delia-to-my-daughterhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/08/07/you_were_born~1021738/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/26/wow~991242/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-07-26:/2006/07/26/wow~991242/Wed, 26 Jul 2006 21:30:54 +0200 <p>December 5th</p> <p><strong>Dear Delia,</strong><br> here is the poem you father and I picked our from hafiz at random, just after we conceived you on Feb 28th, 2004:</p> <p><u>WOW</u></p> <p>Where does the real poetry come from?<br> From the amorous sighs<br> In this moist dark when making love<br> with form or<br> Spirit.</p> <p>Where does poetry live?<br> In the eye that says 'Wow wee',<br> In the overpowering felt splendour<br> every sane mind knows<br> When it realises - our life dance<br> Is only for a few magic<br> seconds.</p> <p>From the heart saying,<br> shouting,<br> "I am so damn Alive"</p> <p>HAFEZ (The Gift/landinsky/p259) </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/26/wow~991242/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dear-delia-to-my-daughterhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/26/wow~991242/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/25/mother_to_mother_the_garden_growing_week~987720/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-07-25:/2006/07/25/mother_to_mother_the_garden_growing_week~987720/Tue, 25 Jul 2006 16:55:34 +0200 <p><strong>July 25th-Lewes, sweltering heat.</strong><br> its been so moving getting these 'plants' in the in-box, (and more than i had thought too - 50 in 6 days) and sometimes personal messages coming afterwards. Some people who I had lost touch with and managed to reach with the project didn't know about mum dying, so thats been rather a shock , to hear the shock ..but inspiring for me that women seem to be valuing the brief time and space to think about what their mothers mean/t to them. Magic begins to work....</p> <p>Two other women have mothers called Parvin, who are in the garden now.Parvin means Morning Star. For some reason writing that last line made me sob.Probably because i could hear Mum saying it proudly in the way she used to say it-she loved her name.</p> <p>Back to digital gardening--another Peter Lakos phrase.. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/25/mother_to_mother_the_garden_growing_week~987720/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>mother-to-motherthe-persian-gardenhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/25/mother_to_mother_the_garden_growing_week~987720/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/my_mother_s_death_boxing_day~967606/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-07-18:/2006/07/18/my_mother_s_death_boxing_day~967606/Tue, 18 Jul 2006 01:44:46 +0200 <p>Will also write from my journals in this space about that extraordinary event and what came after. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/my_mother_s_death_boxing_day~967606/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>deathmy-mum-and-itsunamimehttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/my_mother_s_death_boxing_day~967606/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/my_daughter_s_birth_december_2nd~967604/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-07-18:/2006/07/18/my_daughter_s_birth_december_2nd~967604/Tue, 18 Jul 2006 01:42:53 +0200 <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=693386"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/386/693386_3434749038_s.jpeg" align="" alt="alinah-dayb4birth" title="alinah-dayb4birth" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><br> <u><strong><br> Selected extracts from my journal for my daughter- Delia Shadi Azadeh Sedgley -born December 2nd 2004. </strong><br> </u><br> <strong>Keri Lassalle , your first godmother, wrote this account</strong> as we all sat together in the front room three days after you arrived, in the front room, amid the smell of milk and my mums cooking,</p> <p>'Dear Beautiful One,<br> You came into this world on a crisp morning at 3.10AM December 2nd, 2004. After a twenty five hour labour you arrived at the Royal Free Hospital, a stunningly beautiful little creature who weighed a mere 7lbs 8 oz.<br> Your mother knew you were about to join her and your father when, at two in the morning Dec 1st, after taking castor oil to get things moving, the first pangs of your imminent arrival began. But things were anything but imminent. You were clearly not planning to be born on the first day of the month and held tight to that warm wonderful place inside your mother.<br> Labour began out painful but bearable in the front room of the flat, your first home,on Maygrove rd, no 52b.As all good intentions were held that you would be a home birth, the whole flat was laden with carpets and cushions. Grandma Parvin was cooking in the kitchen(much of the labour) and your godmother (me,Keri) was called in to join the fray in the wee hours. Your mum was so amazing and strong as the first contractions got stronger-Parvin put on a tape of Shahram Nazeri singing the appropriate welcoming in farsi of something like,- 'come ,come my lovem come into my world..'(Bia, bia dellaray man..).<br> But alas twenty hours passed, twenty hours of baths ith lavender (3), leaning on the pilates ball, trying to breathe on all fours,squatting,sitting,standing, pacing, dancing (belly dancing mainly), lots of bjork,swearing and talking to god, groaningm grunting and yelling at dad for getting her into this mess in the first place..<br> There were three changes of midwives- Cheryl, Helen, Donna, Sima(Iranian, head midwife) and Kaiko --and finally Beverly once we arrived at the hospital.<br> By the time Sima arrived, she waited and waited and after a check realised mums cervix was a littel bit stubborn...After 12 hours , altho we were told mum was 8cm dilated at 3pm, in fact when Sima checked it was actually 6cm and because mum couldnt help but push, her cervix was becominh swollen.<br> After another 12 hours of lots of pain, little progress was made in the way of a widening of the doorway for tyour entrance in to the world.Soon, altho Leo (your dad) and I were the staunch gatekeepers of having as natural a birth as possible, it became obvious that your mums amazing energy had to have an end to it and if it didnt come soon, things might get sticky..<br> So the decision was made and the ambulance was called.Quite am adventure it was, mum on all fours, blue lights blaring,Once at the hospital a bit of oxytocin helped things only mildly and with contractiosn slowing and cervix remaining less than cooperative, we were given two hours to a caesarian! Through tears Leo and I prayed and supported your lovely mum, who by this time was becoming progressively exhausted. At the end of two hours Sima checked Mum to find little had changed cervix-wise and it was the first time the dsmallest sens of defeat began to permeate us.<br> The doctor was called in and confirmed that all hard work may have been for nil.The something washed over her face.She asked Mum if she tried something. The doctor put her gloves back on with Mums nod and after a few moments of work and a few more moments of mum feelin quitre extraordinary discomfort, a huge massive sense of victory was felt by all as the doctor, the wonderful doctor, had managed to get your lovely little head through your mums cervix.It would be a birth through the preferred channel..yeah!<br> With a lttle help of the ventouse and an episitiostomy you were miraculously brought into ths world-a truly beautiful little pixi.To all of our amazement your were blond with open searching grey eyes.And you stunned us all with your absolute serenity. You have come into a world where so many love you-little unnamed one."<br> (tbc)</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/my_daughter_s_birth_december_2nd~967604/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>dear-delia-to-my-daughterartist-mothermemy-mum-and-ihttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/my_daughter_s_birth_december_2nd~967604/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/all_about_my_mother_parvin_azadeh_rieu~967599/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-07-18:/2006/07/18/all_about_my_mother_parvin_azadeh_rieu~967599/Tue, 18 Jul 2006 01:31:59 +0200 <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=693371"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/371/693371_bed9eedec4_s.jpeg" align="" alt="delia-+-papajan" title="delia-+-papajan" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=693372"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/372/693372_6f3d0dde0f_s.jpeg" align="" alt="My mum, early photo" title="My mum, early photo" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p>My cousin kooshah made a memorial film which we watched on the 1 year anniversary of her death on Boxing Day 2005 after drinking champagne at Birling Gap (where we scattered her). It is on,one at: <a href="http://www.parvinazadeh.com">Parvinazadeh.com</a>.its fitting too that he has built the Mother-mother site- she was very , very fond of him.<br> I am going to write more here over the next few weeks.<br> There is also a Radio 4 Home Truths slot on her and us which was very moving and I will put a link to here.<br> My mum was a celebrity in her sphere of life and i know she is loving this.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/all_about_my_mother_parvin_azadeh_rieu~967599/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>deathtsunamimehttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/all_about_my_mother_parvin_azadeh_rieu~967599/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/persian_gardens_in_dreams_and_reunions~967588/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-07-18:/2006/07/18/persian_gardens_in_dreams_and_reunions~967588/Tue, 18 Jul 2006 01:23:37 +0200 <p><u>Week 6 notes:</u><br> <u>Dream gardens</u><br> Re gardens..i recalled that in fact <strong>there have been some gardens in my life that really weave me and my mother together.</strong> When I was very young I used this have a recurring dream that I was running through a garden-a walled orchard garden – at night…through the trees,,,I would get to the far edge of the garden and there was a crumbling low wall, broken in the middle, and I would go to jump over it..and the dream would end.<br> Many years later, when I went to Iran in 1992 for the first time and visited my mothers birthplace –Namin village in the Azeri province, we came to my uncle Hamid’s house—which was where my mum used to live- and I walked down the steps of the patio into the garden—the garden of my dreams..until I came to the end and that very same wall…with the same break in the middle …</p> <p>Felicity said she thought this project was about ‘memory and transmission; and in a way that story encapsulates that—a genetic memory passed to me somehow from my mum..<br> I have video footage of this garden, which I have found, and looked through again.But that’s another project.</p> <p><u>Reunions</u><br> The other garden—actually it’s a private park, Bishops Down -is in Tunbridge Wells, where I grew up, a magical place with huge trees around a big lake, we used to live there as a family as it all started going sour between my mum and dad. The Iranian revolution brought us quite a few long term house guests and adopted cousins and I think my dad just couldn’t deal with my mum belonging to and looking after everyone else except for him…that’s my story. Anyway I used to escape to that park, smoke by the lake with friends, lay in the snow on our backs n the winter…picked bluebells and snowdrops in spring..picnics in the summer..<br> Years later my mum , a widow after her last husband Richard died..bought a flat on the other side of the park and we once again had access to it. It was in a big house that was going to be knocked down but wasn’t and she went knocking on doors to find herself a place there—she loved it. Strangely, you could see our old back garden from her kitchen.</p> <p>A few times a year, we –mainly Iranian side of the family and her friends.would gather there for a big Persian feast cooked by her and then we would all walk down through the park, to the lake,…sit by the lake for a while and then return for tea afterwards. We had the last big family party November 2004 there, a month before she died -she had got her brother Massood over from Iran (just in time..to show him Art in London and spend time with him) and everyone came..even English relatives, it was a real, authentic reunion…<br> It was so, so tough packing it up and clearing it out when we sold last year (we didn’t touch it hardly for nine months..too much for us to bear) and I did think then that I must return to the park and film it, so I guess that’s what I will do,,maybe it can inspire, along with he dreamgarden..the final form of the online piece. But it will require strength and timing.</p> <p>After the session I went to the Tate and got some inspiration in the bookshop- I bought ‘Song of Earth’,,artists working in the landscape….And a couple of garden books, with images of unusual gardens and land art from all around the world.</p> <p>I got talking to Peter and Sarah who live downstairs about the meaning of the garden in the tarot, as they are into that, and he gave me a Tarot reading related tot he project, I got the death card for the ‘outcome’, which in tarot signifies a great letting go, stripping away, a profound transformation and re emergence of new life in the distance.<br> I think its Peter who came up with idea of Motherobilia…full of good ideas, that man</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/persian_gardens_in_dreams_and_reunions~967588/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>mother-to-motherthe-persian-gardenhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/persian_gardens_in_dreams_and_reunions~967588/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/the_persian_garden_seed_idea~967577/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-07-18:/2006/07/18/the_persian_garden_seed_idea~967577/Tue, 18 Jul 2006 01:17:57 +0200 <p><u>Week 4 notes: </u><br> <strong>The walled garden, a safe closed place for reflection and nurturing.<br> Each woman planting qualities through selecting flowers//or<br> They could come from the weaves /colours<br> Area of the garden could relate to different issues raised in the conversations and you could search the garden for the appropriate area to plant…<br> the colour palette based on interactions, I would design the structure from this too.</strong></p> <p>Next research day: read up on gardens/symbolism etc, start drawing out ideas for the structure .<br> Maybe: you would receive a packet of seeds…or I would plant for you.</p> <p><strong><strong>Two stages:</strong><br> - East Greenwich is the core structure and inspiration for the garden and the launch takes place within an outside space locally and we plant seeds…<br> - After the launch we market online /globally and open it up to everyone</p> <p>Talked to my cousin kooshah re using the pixel-ad format for the project online. kooshah booked the domain and we talked re the logistics of building something based on this idea of 1000irani.com. He said it’s a weeks work to get a basic site/database up and running and it could be done by mid-end june, he could start build while I work through material form workshops and how they will inspire the form of the site.<br> </strong> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/the_persian_garden_seed_idea~967577/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>the-persian-gardenmother-to-motherhttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/the_persian_garden_seed_idea~967577/#commentshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/weaving_session~967561/tag:alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk,2006-07-18:/2006/07/18/weaving_session~967561/Tue, 18 Jul 2006 01:06:53 +0200 <p>I hardly wrote notes for this because I was either weaving . ‘holding the space’ more as it was a more deeply emotional one, or holding C’s beautiful baby mei lin so she could take photos!</p> <p>But i will add some anyway soon. Here is another image taken by my photo angel christina:</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=693351"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/351/693351_0bc9308f02_s.jpeg" align="" alt="Weaving session 3" title="Weaving session 3" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/weaving_session~967561/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>mother-to-motherweaving-workshopshttp://alinahazadeh.blog.co.uk/2006/07/18/weaving_session~967561/#comments