For some time I’ve been meaning to change the direction of Mockingbirds at Midnight, but was unsure where I’d take the blog. Then my life changed. It’s a weird thing about life; sometimes pathways appear when you least expect them. Sometimes you are dragged onto a cold, hard trail kicking and screaming NONONO!
On the last day of 2016, my mother—my security, my rock, my best friend, my biggest fan, my confidant, my conscience, my guide, my momma—left this world. Since then I’ve been wandering a dark landscape, lost amid sucking holes of anxiety and panic, stumbling through bogs made of tears, and falling into deep swally holes of grief. As I wandered, I did find one path that seemed to be semi-solid ground, and that is the path of writing and sharing this first year of loss on this blog. I hope it will help me; I hope, if you are grieving, it might give you some comfort too.
Over the next month, I’m going to be migrating my art related content to my website, MargaretSloan.com. That’s where you’ll find articles on how to make a light box, how to paint teeth, and how to pack art materials for a car trip. Plus other assorted articles and blogs about art, folklore, and the world as seen by an artist. I’ll still be working on happier things, but I won’t be doing that here. Head on over to MargaretSloan.com and explore my website as I develop it, sign-up for my newsletter, or follow my blog to keep up-to-date on more upbeat topics.
But Mockingbirds at Midnight, for the next year, will be about grief. About how it feels to be left behind. About how it feels to say I’ll never see my loved one again. About all the rituals, stories, and myths surrounding death, because that’s what I need to share with the world right now. And it will be about how we might heal, if that’s even possible, after great loss.
And it will be about my mother, as much as possible (I do want to protect the privacy of my family), and my gigantic love for the amazing woman she was and continues to be in my heart.
I understand if you don’t want to read this kind of stuff. It’s not for everyone. But if you think you might find comfort in these words, I hope you’ll stick around.