Friday, 12 March 2010

Journeys Into The Unknown


A few posts ago I dedicated a poem called Footsteps to my friend and fellow blogger, Renee. Her daughter Angelique let us know of Renee's passing. When I wrote to Angelique, the word verification letters spelt her mother's name. My own mother, sitting beside me, was moved to tears, but I felt happy and utterly, confidently assured that Renee, like all my spirit guides, will always appear when she is needed. I also feel sure she must be generously visiting all her many, many readers, sprinkling a shiver of laughter and that unexpected pleasure that only comes with brushing fingertips with the happy unknown.

Into a different unknown, travels my elder brother on the second leg of his globosocial adventure, the first part completed in Central and South America, this time to India. The journey began in Mexico City last October, and after 1000 hours of pro-bono work across 60 social enterprises and NGOs working with literacy, poverty, social discrimination, media branding and financial sustainability to name a few, you can imagine my pride at being his sister!
Of course, at the moment he is, as usual, cutting things very fine... the flight leaves in a few hours from Heathrow, London, and Rizwan is still very much at home, in Cambridge, watching the IPL cricket with my father!

My brother carries with him precious cargo. A few of my father's paintings for his friends. My parents' paintings have been travelling across the globe for thirty years and reside in homes I have never visited. Someday, when I least expect it, I shall come across one of their paintings or portraits...
Perhaps our journeys are not so very unknown. After all, we are always travelling together.


first image from Renee's blog
second image, one of Father's treescape watercolours

20 comments:

Bee said...

I love your father's work! Gorgeous stuff.

I'm really sorry to hear about Renee. Death is truly THE journey into the unknown, of course. I'm glad that you feel she is still with you in spirit.

Sam Liu said...

I'm sorry about the passing of Renee, but, as you say, she lives on.

Your brother's journey sounds amazing, something I'd love to do in later life and the photograph of one your father's pieces is beautiful, I really like it.

Nikki said...

Beautiful paintings. Wow. They are both breathtaking. Thank you for stopping by my acupuncture/healing blog. I would love to hear about your experience with acupuncture anytime. I admire your meditative lifestyle:)

Jeanne-ming said...

Your Father's painting is beautiful! I know what you mean about paintings showing up when you least expect them. Last year my daughter was in Shanghai and made a new friend who helped her mak her wedding gown. She visited her house and walked in to see a painting in a very familiar style hanging in her dining room. Leigh inquired about the work and the lady said it is by Jeanne-ming Brantingham....and my daughter sighed a breath of relief..."I thought so, that's my mother!"

staceyjwarner said...

Your father's painting is absolutely beautiful...

Lovely thoughts about Renee...her spirit is with us.

much love

TheChicGeek said...

So true, Shaista, we are all traveling together. This is a beautiful post and your father's painting is beautiful! Your blog is looking so gorgeous...both your words and the art! I love your banner...so great!
Wishing you well and sending you love!

Cloudia said...

Glad we found each others' blogs!


Aloha from Hawaii my new Friend!


Comfort Spiral

Ocean Girl said...

From God we come, to God we shall return.

Everything is beautiful here Shaista, your words, your parents paintings. And your wonderful brother. So much to be grateful for.

Anya said...

Unique painting from your father..

(@^.^@)

Ruth said...

Shaista, your word verification of Renee's name stops, and warms me this morning. She was - and is, apparently - a distributor of love and joy and beauty.

And so your brother is, and your father, and you. It's a torn world we inhabit, and some of us keep displaying the human-divine beauty that makes life worth living. Travel well, Rizwan. Keep spreading your beauty to the ones who need it.

LadyCat said...

I am sorry to hear of Renee's passing, but am sure her spirit will stay with you. The veil between the living and the dead is very thin. i just wrote this line on another blog today, so we all are on the same wavelength some days.
I, too, really like your Father's painting.

Chrisy said...

What a comfort that WV must have been for you. It's just the kind of thing darling Renee would do isn't it...
...I have a little momento to darling Renee over at my place if you'd like to visit...

lupie said...

Renee lives on through her journey into the unknown ....

But should we be afraid of the unknown?

I don't know ...

Thanks for your words of support, you are amazing, your family too .. I am proud to know you! :)

A Cuban In London said...

I, too, read about Renee and wrote my own tribute to her. It will come out this Sunday. I think this is a remarkable post. And you're a remarkable person. I feel proud to be one of your readers.

Greetings from London.

Kitty Moore said...

Your father is clearly as talented as his daughter x

Keats The Sunshine Girl said...

Lovely painting by your father. Such talent in the family.

Autumn Twig said...

beautiful thoughts, great post

love and prayers,

Jo said...

Shaista, your father's painting is wonderful. I can see where you get your talent.

And you must be so proud of your brother. Maybe one day I will meet him on his travels.

I'm sorry to hear about Renee. When I read about the word verification, the hairs on my arms stood on end. My goodness!

Maggie May said...

I love the treescape, it's so beautiful. I think the idea of stumbling across your parent's work is fantastically wonderful and a great idea for a novel or short story.:)

jeannette said...

I can tell you miss your brother:) And your father's watercolor is magnificent and intriguing!
By the way, I love your header, Shaista, it fits you (smile)

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