Who are we without our memories?
My Father was diagnosed with dementia some time before I began this Spell. During the slow process of its creation he moved into a care home and passed away. Coming back to work on this painting during those months was a helpful way to process what was going on and gave me space to wonder about memory. Who are we when the memories fade? What really matters in the end?
Circles are magic. A boundary with no beginning or end, keeping out what we don’t want and keeping what matters close to us. Every painting in this series begins with this powerful symbol.
Rather than us remembering, perhaps it is our desire to be remembered that is most important. A sentiment expressed by this first little forget-me-not in the garden.
Limpets always come back to the same little groove on the rock where they anchor. Their foot is so powerful that sometimes, after years of returning home they create a limpet-shaped indent in the rock-face.
Routine, ritual and familiarity prop up memory, and even when the memories fade the routine can remain.
What's left behind? As the leaf decays the beautiful, delicate and intricate skeleton is revealed. It's a similar process in the brain with dementia. Some structures remain, whilst others, usually the most recently formed, disappear.
Some things don’t work out in the painting process, and I was never happy with this leaf skeleton. Eventually I painted over it all together and I feel like its absence is more powerful than its inclusion.
When 2 neurons connect they make a synapse. Each repetition of an action or behaviour creates synapses, literally rewiring our brains. This is neuroplasticity- the ability to change at any time in our life, by bringing intention and repetition to the actions and behaviours we wish were automatic.
Dementia and Alzheimers affect these synapses, beginning with the most recent memories. This ring of healthy neurons is painted in liquid gold leaf from microscope images taken by Dr Elisa Galliano at University of Cambridge, very kindly shared with me by Dervilla Glynn
How do moths know what to do? Their instincts operate like little clockwork programs, transforming them from egg, to caterpillar, chrysalis, cocoon and then moth.
The moth knows how to fly, how to find a mate, lay eggs, all on instinct. It's the light, or rather the darkness for most moths, that prompts their behaviour. Like us, having breakfast at the same time and following the same patterns. It doesn't require much thought. My father was completely rigid in his routines for much of his life and in many ways that helped him as he declined.
This poor little moth was on its last legs when it was caught by Prof. Ed Turner, who works at Cambridge Zoology Museum, it spent it last moments with me on the drawing board. Our habits become critical as memory fades. Rituals, the reason for which we may not recall, give us structure.
The Ginko tree is ancient. Sometimes called the living fossil, it was around when dinosaurs roamed. It’s beautiful yellow-green leaves are like little fans. Ginko is widely used in Europe for treating dementia. At first, doctors thought it helped because it improves blood flow to the brain. Now research suggests it may protect nerve cells that are damaged in Alzheimers disease. Many thanks to Sarah Strickland, a neighbour who gave me a few leaves from her tree.
When neurons are damaged by Alzheimers or Dementia, they are physically transformed. Their fine reaching tendrils become stunted twisted arms, unable to connect to other neurons, they stop working, making them like little islands which eventually die. This disruption of the brain’s communication networks affects memory, language, reasoning and causes the thinking difficulties associated with dementia.
This damage lies firmly out of the magic circle
This remarkable object is a Roman spoon bowl, excavated in Cambridgeshire in 1851.
It was in a grave, found having been repurposed by an Anglo-Saxon, strung with beads onto a necklace as a pendant and buried with its wearer.
I imagine the Anglo-Saxon woman it was found with, touching this talisman around her neck, as she pondered, or worried. Her thumb fitting neatly into the curve of the bowl as mine does. The glimmering metal, heavy and cold when she first put it on, and then conducting her body heat, warm against her throat.
This broken spoon, already 200 years old when it was found in the 6th century, was no longer fit for purpose, but elevated to a decorative role. It’s a deeply tactile thing, and I’m so grateful to Lily Pencliffe, Senior Collections Assistant for Cambridge Museum of Anthropology and Archeology, for guiding me to it.
Who knows how long-gone the Romans were, when this was repurposed. Perhaps it was a connection to someone, an heirloom, a reminder of another era. Or maybe just found by chance and valued as a little piece of treasure.
I love the layers of history this small, modest item encompasses. It is well over 1500 years old and was worn before the Norman invasion. Found just down the road from me in Little Wilbraham it felt like time travelling to hold it in my hand. Who knows who it fed and who it adorned.
Painting out the background on the outside of the all important circle with damaged neurons felt very powerful. It’s important that something was there, even if you can’t see it. Even if you forget, there are tiny traces, evidence of time spent, marks made, a life lived.
Finishing this piece left me feeling that the power of remembering, is really about making meaning, witnessing events, understanding our own story, defining ourselves. Witnessing someone lose their own narrative is painful. Especially when you feature in it.
Memory is subjective and can live on beyond a life. In the retelling of tales, the passing on of objects, habits, preferences. Memories shape us for good or bad, this Spell is a also a coming to terms with being forgotten as much as a desire to remember. May it help you with the pain of forgetting yourself, or being forgotten.
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