“Fresh widow” is a play on words -- a Marcel Duchamp “readymade” of a miniature, tweaked French window. You can read one analysis of this piece by a scholar (not me) here.
A few months after my husband died, I remembered this pun without cringing -- and saw in my mind’s eye a potential artwork. The work would be in the style of Pierre et Gilles, a super-airbrushed portrait of me, very idealized, bursting or floating through a partially open French window, hair flowing, looking liberated. This image absolutely clicked. I called a friend who did work that could morph into a piece like this, but it was not to be -- she had moved on into pieces using words to delineate complex racial assumptions.
But the title still rocked. And while Duchamp put sexual allusions into the piece (it was signed by his drag alter-ego), he didn’t have 20 years of hip-hop behind him with all the richer meanings of “fresh.”
And there is not a lot out there for young widows so I decided to pile a bunch of my ideas together and self-publish again, this time digitally. So here I am. How did YOU get here?
2.25.2007
Who am I? [updated Aug. 2008]
Unbelievable – it’s past two years, now.
Since?... My darling daughter, Short Stack, is 4 and a half. When she was 7 months, my husband was diagnosed with a stage 4 rare cancer with very limited treatment options. He fought for 22 months, and everything wore down. He died. That’s where I started counting.
Since then, it’s been a lot of bumps, a bunch of lows, and a long steady period of uphill.
I started dating around 16 months. Some crazy and fun experiences brought me back to who I really am, who I hadn’t been for a long, long time.
Now I live with Hunky Fiancé. Life is stable and quite good. I’m still picking up many, many pieces but I’m strong enough to do it.
Why blog now? There aren’t enough of these stories and people need to hear them. Young widows and widowers were my path to sanity, health, and a future. Every week I went to group, every day I spoke to a widow BFF on the phone. Now, writing may help me process and connecting allows me to give back what I got so much of.
And maybe someone is listening? Write me at supa.dupa.fresh AT gmail DOT com.
Since?... My darling daughter, Short Stack, is 4 and a half. When she was 7 months, my husband was diagnosed with a stage 4 rare cancer with very limited treatment options. He fought for 22 months, and everything wore down. He died. That’s where I started counting.
Since then, it’s been a lot of bumps, a bunch of lows, and a long steady period of uphill.
I started dating around 16 months. Some crazy and fun experiences brought me back to who I really am, who I hadn’t been for a long, long time.
Now I live with Hunky Fiancé. Life is stable and quite good. I’m still picking up many, many pieces but I’m strong enough to do it.
Why blog now? There aren’t enough of these stories and people need to hear them. Young widows and widowers were my path to sanity, health, and a future. Every week I went to group, every day I spoke to a widow BFF on the phone. Now, writing may help me process and connecting allows me to give back what I got so much of.
And maybe someone is listening? Write me at supa.dupa.fresh AT gmail DOT com.
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