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The full moon casts a milky light,
Days slip into sand and holes,
Castles built then destroyed,
Pulsating transparent jellyfish swims with tentacles trailing,
Lifeboat launches,
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“Mummy can you come and dig with me”, requests Naoise
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Tracing my mums steps on Whitesands Beach, Sennon,
For her it was 1960’s Cornwall claustrophobia,
She preferred the off season peace,
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“Can you see my hole has got deeper” states Naoise
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She walked everywhere, hatching escape plans,
She tells me of taking her cousin to Francis Bacon’s party in St Ives; Cinderella’s thrown out at midnight to sleep in a railway carriage, unable to get home,
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“Let’s dig a hole near the sea” demands Naoise
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Mum was from a family of ten children,
Anne, David, Sandra, Helen, Gerda, Jeremy, Jason, Naomi, Irene, Jonnathan,
Holes in memories,
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“Look mummy, the water is coming in and the sand is tumbling away” delights Naoise
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Mum also lived at the little house at Madron, near the track that leads to the Men an tol; an ancient Bronze Age site,
Folklore tells that if a women passes seven times through its hole on a full moon a pregnancy is guaranteed,
As an art student, I played out this fertility ritual,
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“Let’s jump in the hole” suggests Naoise
Hand in hand we jump in
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Handinhand

About Helen Sargeant

I am a visual artist, mother of two children aged 12 and 4, and co-founder of the MeWe arts collective. I intend to use this site to explore how my personal experiences as a mother informs my arts practice. To reflect upon the maternal in relationship to memory, loss, and mental health in particu…Read more

Website: http://helensargeant.co.uk

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One Response to “Holes”

  1. Una Baines

    Hi Helen, I love how you have made your work your life and your life your work, I feel strongly as a mother and an artist how vital and important this is. How can the world that excludes our experience start to learn if we don’t communicate it. Much Love xxx

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