Mom's Tim's Horses

"These two horsies, minus my face, hang above the stairs at my mom’s house. It is part of a collection that has moved with us from house to house. The collection is a motley assortment of my mom’s ex-husband’s original paintings. I know what you’re thinking: “don’t you mean your dad?” And no I don’t mean my dad, I mean my mum’s first husband. Before my dad, before me, before the digital age of cyber-terrorism and online dating, and before any reality known to me- there was Kim and Tim in their magical world of the sixties. Like many people in my generation that were cursedly spat out in the 80s, I feel an intense nostalgia for the roaring sixties and for some bizarre reason their marriage represents a cathartic fantastical perfectionism to me. When I look at these paintings and pictures of them in the sixties I feel, to borrow a term from the sixties, at peace.

By the way, my mom would like a change in our décor. After relentless refusal to allow this to happen, we arrived on a compromise. Soon we are going to be driving to Aurora, where Tim’s gallery is, in order to buy some of his new paintings."
- As told to The MOMMA by Lily Ames, Toronto

Norma's Baby Paintings

Norma's painting is given to grandparents Michael and Elsa, October 1968.

"These are photos of my mom's paintings of me as a baby. They're the only art I own of hers, although she painted many landscapes. I was her happy muse for a time, at any rate...

She was a lovely woman, an excellent mother, and she is sorely missed - she passed away from complications surrounding breast cancer, peacefully going in her sleep in January 2006. Her birthday was February 9th, and while I often think of her during special occasions such as her birthday, seasonal holidays, and my own birthday (as I wouldn't be here if not for her), mother's day is always a time to remember her as my dear mum, who patiently taught me the beauty of nature and the mysteries of spirit. Happy Mother's Day, Mum."
- As told to The MOMMA by Beatrice Smartt, Vancouver

Beatrice, Norma Smartt, Oil, 1968

Baba and Bob

Shevchenko Icon

"This is me and my mother holding an icon of Taras Shevchenko - the national Ukrainian poet. My parents were both immigrants, who came to Canada in the Fifties - in that wave of Post WW II displaced Eastern Europeans. They were both Ukrainians by birth who found themselves in Canada almost by accident. Shevchenko is a national hero and most Ukrainians keep pictures of him in their homes. My mother is too practical to care much about poetry. But she always missed her home - and this was made worse by the Cold War politics that made travel back home for her a virtual impossibility. So this icon reminds us all of where our family's roots are. They actually brought this embroidered Shevchenko back from Ukraine with them when they did return in the late Sixties. When we took this photo she went out of her way to point out how much she likes it. She also was cursing the French government, as they are withholding my father's wartime pension, despite the fact he served in the army.

We also have a stuffed squirrel in the living room that seems to be there for the sole function of making people uncomfortable."
-As told to The MOMMA by Bob Mackowycz, Toronto

Meltyface

Meltyface, Acrylic, Frances Mackowycz, 1986

"My mom is full of surprises. She's always got something cooking in that mind of hers. She got pregnant in high school, and had to drop out. She sacrificed a lot of her own interests and ambitions to stay home with me and my sister. And she never complained about it. Ever.

One day my mom announced she was going to start painting again. I didn't have any idea that she could paint. She was so busy with us kids, she didn't really have any hobbies - and of course, we were so self-absorbed, we wouldn't have noticed anyway. So I said, "Okay, Mom - do your thing." Then, a few weeks later I came home from school and this self-portrait was hanging in our foyer. I thought, "Oh boy...it's gonna be a long year." I call this painting "Meltyface." For a long time, it intimidated me. I'd walk by it in the hall and shudder. It's hard to look at an expression of your mom's innermost thoughts. Especially when they are melting her face. But now, looking back, I'm glad she painted it, because it was something she needed to do.

Now, 22 years later, my mom has gone back to school. She just won a prestigious scholarship in Religious Studies at the University of Toronto. She had the highest grades of any third year student. I completely believe that self-portrait represents a big step in her life.
She maintains this painting is funny. Which is totally her sense of humour."
- As told to The MOMMA by Bob Mackowycz Jr., Toronto

The Judge by Marsha Davis

The Judge, Clay, Marsha Davis, 1990.

"This piece is called The Judge, one of many of my mom's sculptures completed in the 90's. This was a gift to my husband Michael in honour of our marriage almost five years ago. My mother had an extraordinary passion for many art mediums throughout her adult life. She first started with charcoals and then progressed to oils in the early years. But I think she found her niche in sculpting. She started in the late 80's during her retirement era in south Florida. She took classes at the community centre and spent her time sculpting in a quiet corner of her bedroom. The Judge is a well known family treasure that now adorns a corner in our dining room. This piece, which may be a he or a she, welcomes guests to our dining room and sits quietly while many conversations ensue. This treasure, like so many now displayed throughout her children's homes, reminds us of a woman who loved art, life and most of all her kinder. To her daughters, grandchildren, nieces, nephews and dear friends they are masterpieces - just like her."
-As told to The MOMMA by Sandy Kronick, Ottawa

Cheryl Treleaven's Spuds (and Clown)

Potatoes, Acrylic on Canvas, Cheryl Treleaven, 2005.

"The potatoes were painted by my mother as part of a painting class that she did. She probably painted them at least five or six years ago. At least once a month when I talk to her on the phone she asks me if I’ve hung up the potatoes yet, and I haven’t. I just haven’t gotten around to it. I think my brother and I were referring to them as life drawings of naked potatoes, potatoes in their natural state.

She’s a dabbler, I don’t know if she paints much anymore, she lives in Thailand. She’s one of those people who will try anything."

"The clown painting, or the story I recall from childhood, and it may be totally inaccurate, is that my parents were on vacation in Spain and the painting was foisted upon them by a bartender/painter at their hotel. It’s an original Wilcaus. And when my parents sold their house that was the first thing that I laid claim to. I didn’t get an argument from anybody, there were no competitive bids. And so I took it to university. And I've had it since."
-As told to The MOMMA by Sarah Treleaven, Toronto