Cynthia Bloom Namenwirth mixed media on paper appox. 12x12"Collection of: The Estate
The last piece of work my mom tried to make at the nursing home for her show at artMovingProjects was a red rose that she wanted for the card. THE LAST ROSE she said.
I found this one with hundreds others in one of the many stacks of magazines and newspapers in the house.
(double click on image to enlarge- hats floating away)
This is what i said at the memorial.
Thank you for coming to the beach to say goodbye to Cynthia it was her favorite spot in the world. My mom was always an artist first and she wanted to be remembered that way. She inspired or perhaps willed me into becoming an artist . She was very firm in her beliefs and would argue her point to no end. Always politically left, a strident Democratic. She will be thrilled when Barak Obama becomes our next president. Anyone who differed was not welcome at the table, several dinner parties ended before desert was served. I remember her marching in New Haven against the Vietnam War and bringing me along reasoning the police would not mess with the protesters if children were in tow.
She watched the news and read a lot. The Sunday New York Times was special ordered in Willington where she wintered, so when a debate ensued she was well armed with facts.
She was really intense and passionate- always filled with life, yet humorous too, things were never just okay they were great or terrible. Drama was the status quo. There was no mediocre or satisfactory- it was excellence or disastrous, Black or white. Things where seldom boring.
She loved her gin and tonic in a bright blue, green, yellow or violet aluminum cup which she served to visitors on the front porch,, with her flowers, Tiger lilies, roses, honey suckle and poppy’s which she made thousands of works on paper of in the most florescent of colors. That they faded made no difference for she was always in the moment. Cynthia loved the monumental too and made huge paintings and many numbering about 500 mostly of abstracted landscapes, ponds, trees, clouds and blue sky.
She lived her life that way in the forever now. To be alive and experience the present and savor and catch the drips of paint. Block Island and her house there, the water and sun made her happy, and she came here every summer for over forty years in which time she made lots of friends some of whom are here together, others who have died recently. Her last words to me where remember to tell Jane that bubba loves her. It was this connection that I felt with her this knowing despite all that separated us she was and always will be in touch with a depth of feeling, and understanding that is shared by both artists and parents.
Mom I hope you find a peace in death with my father and those that went before you that was not present in the health care system and your last years . It was always your wish to swim out into the surf on Block Island and this is where we leave you.
We love you.
