Summer Exhibition at the Royal Academy

I took my eldest son to London for a city break in the middle of July. It was so lovely to have one-to one time with my now sixteen year old. The weather was beautiful, he chose delicious places for us to eat, we went to see a musical which exceeded my expectations and we walked miles seeing the sites. He also discovered various comic book shops which was a lovely way to connect with him and his interests. The Royal Academy Summer Exhibition was on our list of places to visit as the sculptor had a piece included. I think we were both really proud and thrilled to see it in situ alongside a huge collection of art work.

Over the past 15 years we have applied a few times but this year we were successful. We found out when the sculptor was in Saudi Arabia at the opening for the commission at Saudi Lime , both feeling like a huge achievement. Achievement is something I have been thinking about this week as A-levels and GCSE’s results are received. We can sometimes put too much emphasis on the outcome yet at the same time gloss over what we have accomplished. If we think that external accolades will give us something that we already have within we can always feel in lack. As with everything it’s the balance of marrying enough recognition with our own sense of self worth regardless of the achievements we have gained, whilst also patting ourselves on the back when we do achieve something we have been aiming for. 

I had not been to a summer exhibition before but whilst we were there we met a lady in her 80’s who stopped to talk to us. She had been every year since the 1950’s, her opinion was that this year was one of the best because of how accessible it was to the viewer. I wondered whether it was because the theme, ‘Only Connect’ (taken from EM Forster’s book Howard’s End) was broad, all encompassing, relevant and literary. 

The exhibition has now come to a close and it has been exciting over the past few months to watch via social media people interacting with the work and those speaking about the exhibition. 

The title of my husband’s piece, ‘Frequency’, is the resonance formed by the relationship and vibration which is what generates shapes in matter. The word, ‘Frequency’ is derived from the latin ‘frequentia’ which originally denoted a gathering of people. In energetic language, we all give out a certain energy and the people we connect with, meet us on our frequency. We attract what we emit.

Everything connects.

Alchemy

I first read The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo in the 90’s, a book gifted by a family friend who wrote an inscription in the first page, “keep following your dream”. (I know I have written about this before). When I saw those words again recently, re-reading it to my youngest child, I melancholically thought I had forgotten to follow my dream, having never had a very clear one. However, I realise that actually my continual quest is like the protagonist of said book- self enquiry. This started with my study of psychology at University because I wanted to know why… Then in my twenties, I was searching for ‘what’ and more recently…. ‘who’. The more I lean in and learn, I realise it is about accepting all that is, the why, the what, the who. It isn’t a destination. So, the book suddenly makes sense, thirty odd years later. It is an eternal quest.

Almost, inversely like the analogy of coal transforming to diamond through being under a certain about of pressure, I feel the journey within is one of releasing pressure. The letting go, the relaxation, the slowing down, the stillness; all qualities which are the opposite of what society teaches us to do. This is actually is where the gold is. The journey within, is the alchemy.

At the end of May, the sculptor was in Saudi Arabia installing a commission which had been almost a year in process, creating and making. The piece was for the company; Saudi Lime, the title of the piece was ‘Stone’ yet it looks like gold. Made from bronze it is symbolic of the company.

Almost an upturned iceberg (often used a visual for how people’s emotions or behaviours can be viewed) the ripples on the surface showing the affect that the alchemy of self development brings, and how energy ripples outwards.


I saw the Aristotle quote that, “the aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance”. I think so many people view art and just look at the appearance of it without delving into the deeper meaning. Art is like a physical prompt to consider, to question and to figure out the why, the what, the who. This world has become very focused on the outward appearance of things. Success seems to be defined by career, house, cars, body shape, holidays, children; a gambit of consumables. Searching for a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow of acquisitions. I am hopeful that there is slowly a shift for some, into an inward development of attaining peace, contentment, contemplation. To find the golden nuggets in the success of self enquiry.

the tree pushes up

out of the earth,

the stones give a wide berth,

in the disturbance.

welcoming the dance,

for undisturbed they bear witness

to way the tree must grow

for the stones know

their eternal nature.

Saudi Lime May 2023.

on silence

This week I have walked every morning and done a few morning pages (From Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way) as soon as I rise from my room. Greeting the day. What I have noticed is, the day greets me back gloriously. I feel hesitant in writing about it because I am determined not to make this a mission or a discipline. My over disciplined self gave me an injury back in February as I didn’t listen to my body. This has meant that my weight lifting (which had become a mission) is now on hold, maybe even scrubbed from the list of things to achieve. So I am back to the drawing board and learning to listen.

One of the reasons why the morning walk is so beautiful is because there is a stillness, almost a silence, despite the bird song and the natural noises. “The quieter you become, the more you can hear”, Ram Dass. This has created an awareness of how noisy the mind is. I suddenly see the need to silence my thinking. I am starting to understand a little bit more about silence. Silence gives me an opportunity to listen to myself.

“Silence is essential. We need silence, just as much as we need air, just as much as plants need light. If your minds are crowded with words and thoughts there is no space for us” Thich That Hanh.

In tune with my journey, the sculptor is often creating pieces that reflect what is going on in my world. This time, with my growing sense of awareness, seeing his current work, I understand what I need to be leaning into or learning from. Having just finished several pieces lately the one this week which connects art to life is, ‘Silent’.

I have been silent in this blogging space for quite a while so thank you for being here holding this space. In the time in-between, I set up a women’s circle for writing, Tamsin’s Poetry Kitchen. In the course, ‘Creating Circles’ written by Sally Golightly; which I participated in last year resulting in my Poetry Kitchen workshops, I learnt the importance of holding space with silence. Silence is a friend. It can feel awkward or uncomfortable, but so much can be learnt if we can sit in the stillness of silence.

I am starting to feel an excitement for where things may head. This last month has been a reflective, restoring, returning month and so I feel a resurfacing of how I can move forward with my writing here in this space. Blogging may not be the way people connect these days with the speedier and noisy social media connections of modern day technology but I still think this is platform for me to write. You can find me though, on Instagram @thesculptorswife and @tamsinspoetrykitchen and it would be lovely to connect with you on those. I will leave with you a poem and a sculpture.

Poem: Silence

See My Voice (part 1)

It has been a long time since I have written a blog post. Mainly, because I have been writing a book instead! Last week I had my book launch at a lovely book shop in Ilkley, Yorkshire called, The Grove. I still feel as though I am integrating it all and if feels almost like a dream. Yet, I have stepped over the threshold of something.

The blog writing got suspended a few years ago when the boys were homeschooling during lockdown. However I did more writing in journals and notebooks. Poetry, has been something I have been writing alongside this blog over the last ten years, and when I was a child.

‘See my voice’ is a collection of poetry, a journey from motherhood to finding my own creative expression. A sculpture sits alongside a poem, sometimes having a direct link and sometimes more abstractly.

The book is available to buy from amazon. A perfect coffee table book to give as a gift!

Balance, Birds and ‘The Bough’.

“Balance does not mean merely balancing the body. Balance in the body is the foundation for balance in life. In whatever position one is in, or whatever condition in life one is placed, one must find balance. Balance is the state of the present-the here and now. If you balance in the present, you are living in Eternity. When the intellect is stable, there is no past, no future, only present.” Excerpt from Light on Life, Balance/Evenness is Harmony)

Balance is something I have been trying to achieve for a while within my mental space and also my physical body. I write ‘achieve’ and realise that it’s not about getting there but finding some kind of harmony within. I have a tendency towards extremes, in many areas of my life. For about eight years I have been dipping in and out of an at home yoga practice but this year I have managed to cultivate a daily yoga practice, over 120 days straight and still going. Helped immensely by the accountability of doing it in tandem with my Mum. This is really helping my mental balance, moving ideas from the mat into life, then breathing through the challenges and accepting what is happening in the present moment. Still not easy but I can sense a little shift. ‘Balance is my natural state’, is a great mantra for realising that I can return to this equilibrium.

My last homeopathic remedy was to help me return to a more balanced state and interestingly, a bird remedy. Birds feature heavily in the poems I write and also in my husband’s sculptures. There is natural liberation in the ability to fly and the need for an innate sense of balance. Birds seem to represent infinite possibilities, eternity. I feel drawn to birds, creatures captivating in their movement. My Mum has always said my name, ‘Tamsin’ means little bird but I can’t find where she may have found that out from as my own research leads to it meaning ‘twin’. Still, I like the idea of my name having a bird association. The other morning on one of our daily walks we were mesmerised by a pair of Hawkes or Kites gliding and darting high above and then more immediately in our sight line two swallows dancing and almost swimming in the air. Birds are often used by creatives to represent thought, imagination and loftiness of spirit, which is why I think I am drawn to them. The sculptor uses them in his work to represent a voice, achievements, and dreams.

This sculpture, ‘The Bough’ is titled as the idea of humanity shouldering the responsibility of nature, being the main branch laden with the blossoms of life. Exploring the idea of being custodians of the natural habitat, the figure looks as though he is flying or diving into life, balancing nature on their back. Synonymously the idea of humanity and the interaction with nature and the plinth representing contemporary society.

How can we balance these components in today’s world?

These Hills we Climb

I am not quite sure how I dare use my adaptation of the title of Amanda Gorman’s Inauguration poem for this blog post (although I have very slightly changed it-does that make it ok??) I began writing this all the way back in January after she delivered her poem at the Inauguration. When the same week I discovered and realised that this sculpture my husband created at the end of last year (2020) almost looks like a three dimensional portrait of Amanda Gorman,with her Prada yellow coat and red headband, I couldn’t not make a post about the connection. Now April the poem is published in book form. So where did January, February and March go? I am not sure. It is odd to think that the slower our pace of life, the quicker time goes. (If you are a follower on Instagram I posted by poem about Time there).

And what hills we have been climbing, internally, nationally, globally, metaphorically and literally if you live in Yorkshire as we do. Certainly a time of almost forced contemplation and reflection. We need to though don’t we? There seems so much to contemplate yet simultaneously being aware that we simply have the moment. Stories of past and future simply being imaginative. These problems our imagination creates can be overcome.

It’s interesting to listen to some of Gorman’s poetry from a few years ago when her speech impediment was still audible. She has certainly I wouldn’t have been aware of it at all in her recitation of ‘The Hill we climb’, on the day. She spoke with confidence and assertion. Hearing her delivery of the poem, the poem itself with words chosen for alliteration, assonance and literary references to other poets sent me into a little spiral of self doubt. The same week when after almost forty years of pursing purpose, I had the realisation that poetry was my path. Though, I have the tendency to do something until I realise I can’t be the best at it then retreat back into my cancarian shell until I find another little track to go down. However, I think this time I have a willingness to stick at it just for joy. To keep finding joy in writing in some form or another as often as I can.

“And yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine,
but that doesn’t mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect”

The poem is one of hope and a much needed sentiment as we march on into the rest of this year with lockdown gradually being lifted here in the UK. As much as I like solitude and isolation we have a natural desire for freedom and rightly so and it’s human nature to want to be together. To share experiences.

‘Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:
That even as we grieved, we grew.
That even as we hurt, we hoped.
That even as we tired, we tried.
That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious’

The sculpture is titled, “Monument II’ from the folklore collection. A mixture of head busts and large scale standing pieces inspired by African and Egyptian folklore. What is appealing about each one of them is that from different angles they look like completely different sculptures. So below are the images of the sculpture rotated, each telling a different story. Most of the sculptures my husband creates tell a story and this one will always be for me the story of Amanda Gorman and what a story. She certainly inspires, seems like a bright light and represents the ability to accomplish dreams , to keep on reaching for those hills to climb.

Reflecting back and Looking ahead

As the natural world around us is literally frozen today as I write, this last day of 2020. It as though time is suspended. So many things in life were suspended this year. Waiting.

As we straddle one year to the next I feel increasingly aware that time is really inconsequential and that we mark time, create time for plans and accruements that we have no guarantee for.

This is no different from how life has been before we have been faced with a reality this year that has taught us to slow down, reflect, hibernate. Here in the north of England we are deep in winter snow which mirrors that intense desire to curl up.

The global situation may seem desperate, bleak but if we focus on what is in front, what is within then we can uncover hope. As seasons change so can we, and unfurl into spring. For now we really have nothing more than the moment.

Poem by Tamsin Shendi

The Great White Horse

When I was in primary school, year two (although it wasn’t called that back then) we did some kind of medieval project and made wish bags. We had to write what we wished for and then seal them in these fabric bags. I wrote ‘horse’. I am not sure why, it is one of a few memories I have from being an infant, yet I didn’t go horse riding or really show any interest in horses I don’t think. Maybe, it was the era of ‘my little pony’- I don’t know. Not long before I had my own children boys I booked myself a lesson and even that memory seems very hazy but I was obviously allergic. When the boys were small I took them on a horse trek and walking beside them wasn’t the best idea, my eyes were itchy, I couldn’t stop sneezing. However, there is something about the horse that still appeals to me.

Meanwhile, over in Egypt my husband was growing up surrounded by animals and horses, mainly because of his grandfather. So riding was a past time of his. In many of the villages around his childhood home wedding celebrations would include a dancing horse. Not sure if the horses danced because of the rhythm of the music or they were trained to, either way, it was the sculptor’s favourite thing to watch.

The first lockdown this year resulted in the sculptor producing a collection of drawings, mainly of animals and amphibians. In this second lockdown the sculptor has been drawing horses. This is the story which inspired the collection.

Whilst at University the sculptor was living with other students, one was an interior designer. He asked one day if my husband would like to go horse riding with him. The sculptor promptly said yes and was instructed that they would be riding near to the pyramids at about four in the morning. The sculptor found this a strange time due to the darkness so asked why. His friend told him that there were some magnificent horses, not allowed out in public for the tourists to ride but kept in the stables.

The sculptor went with the interior designer to a very unusual place near the pyramids in the early hours before the dawn. They were the only people awake. The friend knocked on a seemingly random door. An old man opened, greeted the friend with familiarity saying, “the same horses”? The friend replied, “yes”.

After a short walk, a stable door was opened and there was the giant white horse, clearly not of an Arab bloodline. My husband had never seen something that large in his life. He fell in love immediately with grand horses. Not interested in speed but the idea of a creature so powerful with solid muscles cutting through the air with beauty and holding a dynamic gracefulness- perhaps this is the point of view of the sculptor. Always looking at shape and form.

The sculptor insisted on riding this grand horse despite it being the one for his friend. He observed his friend’s disappointment. The stable man stated that he wouldn’t be able to handle him and that the friend was used to riding him. As soon as my husband mounted the horse’s back, he reared up and tipped him off. It then took him a second or two from the shock and everyone laughing around him, for him to realise what had happened. He got up and got straight back on. Gently touching the mane he slowly built up speed upon the horse. Maybe the horse had wanted to send him a message that the horse was the one in control.

In the darkness of the night some how the desert was lit up by the stars, or the sparks from the friends horse running so fast ahead on the the stony ground. The great white horse got faster until it was as though the sculptor was no longer riding a horse. The horse was a soft gentle rocking chair. The sculptor was so confident as the cold breeze hit his face from the speed and yet he felt on top of a feather. At this point his hands let go, stretching out to his sides. For a brief moment he believed he was no longer on earth. Perhaps, floating between land and sky. He felt free.

Maybe the horse experienced it too. The horse and sculptor were one. It was an experience he will never forget.

The Sculptor & Sons get a dog despite me saying no!

In July, just after the first lockdown my family and I took a day trip to the east coast for a seaside excursion. As many others had also had the same idea, we tried to social distance on the beach. My mother who was recovering from a major operation was acutely aware of the many dogs barking. My brother, who’d recently returned from Australia because of our mum’s health and the world pandemic situation was loving observing the dog. He made quips about how great it would be to be one, have one, just generally loving the idea of dogs. Whilst I, on the other hand couldn’t think of anything worse. Mainly, I think because we got a little dog when the boys were still too small to assist in the responsibility of it all and it tipped me over the edge. However, even before that, the sculptor and I had a doberman for about 6 months until the sculptor was in a car crash and I was heavily pregnant. I managed a few months more but I think he was nine or ten months old, we made the sad decision to re-home, Troy (and he was our second doberman also but that’s a whole other story). So, for me I was never going to have a dog again. Tried and failed. I think for me there is a big fear of failure but I am learning late in life that failure is a very very important and crucial element to success. Also, I wonder if I was rather conscious of ‘what other people would think’, again, learning that my people-pleasing traits have down sides.

Dream Catcher IV, Harlequin Collection

So, how by August did we end up with a six month old doberman pup? I am pretty sure it had something to do with the Harlequin collection which the sculptor created, made and completed during lockdown. A collection of five mystical, whimsical, imaginative creations. A product of the time we are in? A reflection of madness, mask wearing, dream like, bizarre fantastical creations. I have just featured Dream Catcher IV in this post as I think he was the culprit!

I certainly think the sculptor starting imagining having a creature wandering around along side him. The boys and their father have continually discussed when and how they would get a dog; breeds and training. I remained ever hopeful that this was just all creative talk! So when they proposed the idea in July I said a vehement ‘no’. I wasn’t on board. It didn’t seem to deter their plans. I felt immediate upset, that I was being put in this position. Felt that my opinions were not being heard. I felt overwhelming sadness which quickly turned to anger and then resentment. My youngest, in persuasion told me to “open my heart and take a leap of faith”. My eldest in consolation told me that they had heard my point of view but that didn’t necessarily mean I had to have it my way. This was an interesting learning curve for me about vocalising my opinion, being heard, being understood but not necessarily getting your own way or being ‘right’. Not that there was a right or wrong in this situation but it did feel like three against one!

So I did a lot of journaling. I took a 6 week meditation course. I breathed in and out. Try it! I learnt a lot. Perhaps, stemming right back to when I was nine years old, we moved house to a new county, started a new school, my brother was born and my dog died all in the space of about five months. Sometimes the way we look at life is governed by our early experiences which lie buried in the subconscious. “History is the fiction we invent to persuade ourselves that events are knowable and that life has order & direction”, Bill Watterson

The doberman (who the boys had decided to name, Troy again) arrived very early Monday morning at the beginning of August he mirrored all of my emotions. Bewildered, confused, scared, tired, shocked, displaced and I watched and observed as my boys took on the challenge in excitement and lapped up the responsibility of having a very large pet. I left them to it. Dogs it would seem have different personalities and this new doberman just didn’t fit into the name of Troy, so we named him the name he’d arrived with with; Kalvin with a ‘K’. The appropriately named cartoon ‘Calvin and Hobbes’ by Bill Watterson, has many quotes that seem to fit my relationship journey with this dog, Kalvin.

I ticked along a little bit but then had a bit or a relapse. All the emotions came up again and I questioned the story. But we all have choices, in each moment. In decisions we make and emotions we choose to carry. We can either focus on dwelling in the past, or in an imagined future and over think or we can focus on acceptance and learn from any situation. In wasting time thinking about the what ifs and the whys we can often hinder our progress. Over analysing gets us nowhere. Srikumar Rao says, “Think of the universe as a benevolent parent. A child may want a tub of ice cream and marshmallows, but a wise parent will give it fruits and vegetables instead. That is not what the child wants, but it is what the child needs.”

So I focused on what I was being given. The positives were we had family days out in the summer days of August and September, we started going to bed earlier, getting up earlier and the boys have their own little independent time walking the dog together in the evenings.

Then, of course, one of the reasons I had not wanted to have a dog, came quickly round to see how well I could cope. My serving of vegetables ( not sure this analogy works with me as I love veg). Anyway, my husband’s exhibition in Egypt suddenly was able to go ahead with little lead time and he left for just over 2 weeks in October for, ‘Motherland’, which I have just written about.

The challenges we face in life are often our greatest teachers but it is so often hard to see it at the time. The two weeks for me felt like I regressed into survival mode. My first walks out alone with ‘the boys’ doberman’ were hesitant, I was nervous and I projected it. I kept explaining to other dog walkers that I was just looking after him whilst my husband was away. “I wondered, is it better to do the right thing and fail or is it better to do the wrong thing and succeed?” Bill Watterson

After Kalvin had arrived I was talking with another Mum at football who said they’d re-homed their first dog which made me realise that perhaps it is more common than I thought. We didn’t necessarily ‘fail’ at have a family pet the first time but the conditions weren’t right for us at that point in time and the personality of the dog we had hadn’t helped. I felt that by the end of intensive two weeks together that I grew in confidence and we are slowly becoming friends. However, I was shattered when the sculptor returned and was relieved. I continue to enjoy our autumnal walks and I try to relax watching the boys play and train their dog.

It can be hard as mothers to reclaim time for ourselves. A resurrection of remembering what makes us individual, aside from the role we play within the family, particularly as a mother but it is so important for identity and self-development, for ourselves and for our children. “We all have different desires and needs, but if we don’t discover what we want from ourselves and what we stand for, we will live passively and unfulfilled.” Unearthing why I didn’t want a dog enabled me to find what I did want. So many things but some of them include, freedom, nature and exercise and having a dog certainly encourages rather than prohibits all of that. So I am leaning towards the bright side. It’s a journey but such a good healing tool.

“You know what’ s weird? Day by day, nothing seems to change but pretty soon….everything is different.”

Bill Watterson.

‘Motherland’

Where can I begin? it has been half a year since I last wrote a blog post. Maybe I needed a blogging break. It’s certainly been a time of reflection, this entire year-an inward retreat, a refocusing on where and what we spend our time on, homeschooling and food shopping seemed to be a focus in Spring and suddenly we are heading into Winter.

When I began this blog ten years ago it was following a December trip to Egypt and the idea came to me whilst in Cairo; to document the journey of my husband’s sculptural creations. That first blog post was whilst our two boys were still babies and his studio was our back shed. In the last ten years his journey has grown immensely (along with the size of our boys!).

As I started jotting down ideas for this blog post the sculptor was in Cairo where his first solo show in Egypt is being held. The prestigious gallery of Zamelek has a body of work that looks truly stunning. The exhibition is titled, ‘Motherland’ , so poignant and apt for his debut in his native country but doubly so as the collection is sculptures of ‘Mother and child’. Unlike the last Mother and Child Exhibitions these pieces are drawn from the Egyptian woman, the idea of home being the mother, the women playing a huge role in the home life of Egyptian society, the iconic images of woman carrying their babies. These ideas have all shaped and created the ten pieces currently in exhibition. The opening of the art season in Cairo feels a huge honour. He was warmly received with newspaper and TV interviews, a real ‘homecoming’

The exhibition is asking the viewer To contemplate, what is the meaning of ‘home’? Is it a place, a person, a memory, a feeling, a culture, is it an object?

What does ‘home’ mean to you? Does this trigger an emotion or a reaction?

‘Home’ for the sculptor is the memory of where he was raised, a period of time that he relates back to, a smell in the air, a time of no worries. For the sculptor, it is his sisters, his cousins, his aunties, his mother. These pieces in the exhibition were created to honour his mother and the women who shaped him but also an acknowledgement of the Egyptian Woman in a predominantly patriarchal society.

For me it’s interesting that my husband has a ‘homeland’ in Egypt which isn’t the same for him now, both as an adult, having lived in the U.K. for longer than he lived there, but also because his mother passed away when he was in his early twenties. So in some ways his idea of home is a distant memory. Obviously, ‘home’ I’d also here with our boys and I. Maybe, we all have more than one home.

When I think of home, I think of our house but also my parents house, it’s no longer my home but it has the memories, the feelings, the history that houses my ‘home’. Perhaps, there is no single thing that represents the meaning for us. I also have memories of my first 9 years of childhood in a different place, a different home. In a way, it’s like Egypt for my husband, it’s not a physical tangible thing just vague memories.

I always feel this time of year in England is about spending more time within the home, as the nights draw in and the weather wetter, colder, damper. I usually look forward to this time of retreat but after a lengthy spell in lockdown it feels that this year will be harder. Even more taxing as we enter a second lockdown. I’ve been doing a lot of self discovery and self care through journaling, meditation and unearthing old programming. My chosen word for this year was ‘play’ which I’m really only starting to tap into and move into as the year ends, as I play with paint, bake, create with words. It’s a real fight to suppress the urge to tidy and clean and organise the home over writing, creating and playing around. I feel a need to make the house homely by keeping it in a certain way which is a challenge considering the constructions by its size and two fast growing little men.

I have a desire to be more creative and spend my time (which feels more indulgent) creatively. What this year is teaching me is, that we need to embrace our inner child and to nurture what is important to us. Learn to laugh, relax and enjoy the moments, to be content in the present. It may seem more of a challenge given the global current situation but this is when it is even more important for our well being. For this is when we truly return home, to our home within.