Ferdinand in my Heart. Janis Tan.

 






















Ferdinand in my Heart.
Janis Tan.
Travel Journal.
Ink.

:::

about the piece.
This is what I did for my journal page for the travel journal.

After I decided to participate I had a feeling, an idea of what I wanted to do. But concretely, I really did not know. I went to the craft stores and tried to find my ideas in concrete forms. I went home with stuff, I started, I stalled.

Then, life got in the way.

And I kept emailing Angie that yes, I was going to do it, next week, next week, next week.

And weeks went by, temperatures plunged and my young little one refused to be put down for her naps. Which meant I never got my hands free from October until now.

In the meantime, I discovered Zentangle and was really drawn to it. When I had a few minutes (while waiting for pasta to cook, water to boil...) I would doodle a little on bits of scrap paper.

And eventually, I knew Zentangle was the answer to what I wanted to create for my journal page. I immediately had the vision of a heart, filled with so many things: memories, heartaches, hurt, love, my precious Ferdinand, hope, strength, friendship. I left some small spaces here and there.

I kind of made a "draft" before I started, just to visualize for myself what it may look like when I brought together elements that called to my heart. But the actual work proved rather different.

First, I was drawing on a larger piece of paper. Second, I could not really stop. I stayed up late one night to allow myself a good stretch of time to do it; I would never find a good two hours during a day with no interruptions. Third, I did not feel I could stop, artistically. Fourth, I changed my mind about some motifs as I went along, and new ones sprung to my head/heart. Fifth, it was tiring on my wrist and fingers and I made imperfections here and there, but a re-do was out of the question (the lines were like manifestations of feelings, emotions and memories, which was why I felt I could not stop), so I just let the imperfections be a part of the work, my heart.

As I was drawing, I thought too of the twins I miscarried last August. And when I finally finished and stepped back and looked I saw elements that represented the twins too.

This is Ferdinand in my heart. All the love, all the loss, everything.

- Janis 

about the artist.
Janis Tan writes on Ferdinand's Gifts. She also gathers recipes her family loved and enjoyed at My Sweet Life. She is still trying to put together the puzzle of her life after her son Ferdinand died, but there is always a missing piece.

Crane, Janis Tan.

Crane.
Janis Tan.
Origami.

:::

about this piece.
Janis explains this piece, "This is the first crane I strung this July with sheer ribbon and beads. I chose red to be the first crane because Ferdinand's birth stone is the ruby and so July is my ruby red month. Friends made me thousands of cranes after Ferdinand died, because they did not know what to do. I also did not know what to do with the cranes, but finally last year decided to string the cranes up to be hung at the local hospital's memorial garden. It really beautified the place and many people had asked about the cranes since. I have more cranes so this year I decided to string up more cranes. The hospital told me they would love to have more cranes.

"This is love, this is remembrance, this is pain, this is grief, this is missing, this is holding, this is one thing I can do now."

about the contributor.
Janis Tan writes on Ferdinand's Gifts. She is still trying to put together the puzzle of her life after her son Ferdinand died, but there is always a missing piece.

Remembering Ferdinand today on his third birthday. Star voyager, you are missed.

Grief is Forever/Love is Forever, Janis Tan.

 

Grief is Forever/Love is Forever.
Janis Tan.
Graphic design.

:::

about the piece.
Janis describes this piece, "As I went about my hectic day I reminded myself that I need to remind myself to do the June Challenge before we leave for our camping trip. I noticed that instead of thinking 'Must do the Grief is forever picture', I said to myself, 'Must do that Love is forever thing.'

"And so it is. The same thing. Grief is forever, and so is love, because one does not exist without the other. The intensity of grief may fluctuate, but love is always there. So I decided to create another picture that alternates the sentences 'Grief is forever' and 'Love is forever', in the never-ending infinity symbol. For me this symbol is also two tears joined."


about the contributor.
Janis Tan writes on Ferdinand's Gifts. She is still trying to put together the puzzle of her life after her son Ferdinand died, but there is always a missing piece.

We Are Always Connected, Val.

We Are Always Connected.
Val.
Pencil.

:::

about the piece.
Janis describes the piece, "This drawing was made by my daughter, Val, last July. For (my son Ferdinand's) anniversary, we had burned pictures and cards, sending our words and love into the flame, that immediately is transformed to smoke and merges with the air, and the Universe. Val drew a tree with seven different types of leaves and she and her brother connected by a cord. She said, 'We are always connected.' Watching how my daughters grieve and remember, I know we are always connected."

about the contributor.
Val's mother Janis talks about her daughter. "Val, who will be 9 in May, was extremely sad when she found out her baby brother had died. After we broke the news to her, she wailed loudly and told us, 'It is the saddest thing when your baby brother has died!' Whenever I cried over Ferdinand, she was always there to hug me, and she would never let go first, always staying there silently until I am done with my sobs. And she was also always saying that Ferdinand is close to us, in our hearts, and very nearby.  Last year on the birthday card that she drew for me she wrote, 'Ferdinand's spirit guides you.'

"It seems on most days she accepts that her brother is not with her, and she was perfectly fine with him being close by, and being the star in the dark sky. But there have also been certain days when grief hits her strong, and that is when I feel horribly adequate as a mother- both to my dead son, and my living daughter. I can only barely demonstrate how to live life even fuller, because that is how her brother's spirit can manifest through us. Of late Val had been very moved and inspired by this song that she learned in her choir.

"Val is homeschooled. She loves to sing. She also wonders if there is a way to travel beyond this Universe."

Janis Tan blogs at Ferdinand's Gifts.

Grief ate me up, Janis Tan

Grief ate me up
by Janis Tan


Grief ate me up.

And then,
She spat me out.
Part by part.

First,
The eyeballs came rolling.
Blinked.
Blinked again.
Glared.
Uncertain
Of that dim
light,
they wobbled.
Next,
Came the hands,
Writhing.
Then,
The toes,
Curled in disbelief,
                           Still.
The hair,
Thick with dust
And agony,
Came after.

Randomly,
Others followed—
Intestines,
Twisted and knotted.
Ankles,
Swollen with insanity.
Knees,
Who quivered to touch the ground again.
The uterus:
Empty,
but heavy with echoes of
a
 distant
           heartbeat.

Arms,
Empty yet achy
From yearning to hold.

Lips--
Quivering,
and burning to kiss,
to sing,
to speak the name.

Ears,
that strain to hear
the phantom calls
of
“Mama! Mama!”

The spine,
all crooked
and hunched over
With love,
Lost.

The breasts,
Dripping
milk,
One
swollen,
One
deflated,
                      followed… …
Weeping,
dying to nurture.

The kidneys,
The liver,
The innards and all
What-not’s
They came,
Spit from the
Yonder dark,
Emerged,
all
discombobulated.

They huddled,
panting,
heaving,
hollering,
And they waited.

Finally—

out
      it
          came.

The heart:
Scarred.
Beautiful,
with a hole,
that sang
with ghostly
ethereal
echoes of grief,
quivering.
Like a tin soldier
it
soldiered on,
keeping the beat.
And all gathered,
to hear
the song
of death
and
rebirth.


Coming together
again,
after being eaten
by
Grief.
And then spat out.

Put together again.
But the mirror,
It did not
Recognize.

:::

about the poem.
Janis describes this poem, "I ought to subtitle this poem 'After Mark Strand', whose poems I recently revisited again, and laid the seed of this poem. And the inspiration came when I was hiking with my family, feeling all parts of my body alive, and full of ache."

about the poet.
Janis Tan writes on Ferdinand's Gifts. She is still trying to put together the puzzle of her life after her son Ferdinand died, but there is always a missing piece.

Pickled by Janis Tan

Pickled
by Janis Tan

P
 l
  u
    n
     g
      e
       d

     straight

i
n
t
o

a pickling solution of sadness
and
grief,
disbelief,
anger
and more grief,
Incomprehensible.

Dim.

Soaked,
The salt of sadness
Seeps in,
Bites,
Penetrates.
The wash of grief
Surrounds,
Drowns,
Reverberating.

Time
ticks
         by.

E
 x
   t
    r
     a
      c
        t
         e
          d,

I surface --
Dripping brine,
Salty and cloudy.

Light seeps through.

Taste:
Mellow,
Uneven,
A bite of sadness,
a hint of bitterness, still.
A fleeting sensation of sweet,
Almost discerned.

Bite:
Not too soft,
Not overly hard,
But,
a
satisfying crunch.
(A little giving in,
a little softness,
-- a nuance of acceptance,
perhaps?)

A whiff fleets by ---
    reminder
of
a soreness,
hand goes to
heart.


Pickled in a brine of
grief.
Emotions of all sorts,
Even beauty.

Now,
I am the brine,
and more.

Bigger than the parts,
but
never
whole.

:::
  
about the piece.
In Janis' words, "Never been a good poet, in fact been explicitly told by an editor to 'just stick to prose' but a visual hit me while scrubbing the dishes and I gave in to it, with many apologies to said editor. I find it so hard to 'define' myself as the thread of time unreels, and even harder after sweet Lyra Phoenix was safely born a year ago. This is an attempt to find the edges."

about the poet.
Janis Tan writes on Ferdinand's Gifts. She is still trying to put together the puzzle of her life after her son Ferdinand died, but there is always a missing piece.