Thursday, March 10, 2011

Learning to Ride the Wave, Ines

Learn to Ride the Wave of Grief.


about this piece.

Learning to live life after loss is hard work. At the beginning after Fionn died I felt like I was drowning, going under, sinking, suffocating. Eventually I came back to the surface but struggled to keep my head above water. I was still alive but found that I had to learned to swim in a storm out at sea. I gradually advanced to floating along on a raft, or nutshell boat, then I started sailing, met friends on a similar journey and then made land, too. Now I feel I can learn to master these powerful waves (which I painted first). At times there even is a sense of thrill to be standing up and being able to deal with these forces. But it's not easy and it all depends on where on these waves I try to stand whether or not I get washed under and crushed, yet again. So I put the surfer on a string... movable. I'm learning to surf the wave called grief to a point where you become good at it  and can actually enjoy life again. - Ines

about the artist.
Ines, aka forward tumble, is a 42 year old mother of Fionn who died before he was born in June 2008. After a year of serious illness, she is learning to live her life without her child.

In Ines’ words, “While art and creativity has always somewhat been part of my life, I used to take a lot of pictures (still do) to capture the beauty of life. I have recently discovered art as a new way of expressing and releasing parts of me from within. I now pursue art in a more deliberate way because it seems to cleanse/liberate me which helps both in my grieving and life in general.”

Ines lives in rural Ireland in a house in a big field two miles from the sea. She maintains a number of blogs: forward tumble; daily forward tumble, chronicling her Creative Everyday Challenge; Fionn, a blog about her son; and tunnel time, a blog about growing vegetables in a poly tunnel in Ireland.


  1. Lovely piece, Ines. Sending you much love.

  2. Love the colors—and such an apt metaphor, what with knowing that sometimes you'll manage quite smoothly and others you'll be drowning all over again.

  3. You do surf beautifully. It inspires me hope. Which is hard to come by lately. I love your piece and your strength.


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