I was contemplating doing a copy of the Black Madonna of Częstochowa icon today.
The dark icon I remember from childhood in my beloved grandmother’s bedroom, and which is in fact to be found in every authentic Polish grandmother’s bedroom.
The somber beauty of the original painting (marked by the scars which have a story) is for me overshadowed by a distaste with the recent pseudo-religious nationalism that everything traditional has become entangled with in Poland.
A country I lost in childhood, and then again in adulthood when I decided I can’t live there being queer and a bit funny.
I couldn’t make myself do a copy; instead put one of my freehand madonna sketches through a basic image processor to bring out some of the somber associations and emotional qualities correlated with all this.
Perhaps an edited painting of emotions and scars.
The topic is childhood and migration, attachment and the safety and wounds of religion.