Art & Parkinson’s
Order & Disorder
Coloring Within the Lines
I used to be the one who colored within the lines. That was who I was: a being with fine motor control, a desire to make things neat, and a need to fit in.
Hal was the “messy” one, his hair overgrown, his clothes often in disarray, his belongings strewn about. Combined with a certain determination to be himself, no matter what.
I hate my own hair when it is too long or messy. And I used to feel that way about Hal’s hair too. But lately I love his hair and beard when they are unruly. He looks like Zeus or some other Greek god. So in a series of drawings, I borrowed some of his wildness for myself .
I still color in the lines a lot, both in my art and in my life. Although I mostly leave Hal’s grooming to his caregivers, he appreciates that I am the one who keeps things orderly in his life. But more and more, I appreciate (and even embrace) the disorder that he has brought into my life.
Our Dining Room Table
Our dining room table is the nicest piece of furniture we own. I’ve always thought of it as the hearth of our household. Throughout the years when I was working and sharing in the raising of our son, I somehow continued to keep the table free of dishes, papers, books, and crumbs – even when all of the beds went unmade and there were baskets of laundry lying around.
Around a decade after Hal’s Parkinson’s diagnosis, I began to notice some slippage. Slowly over the years, Hal had begun to use the table as – in addition to a place to eat – his office, his library, a place to do crossword puzzles, manage his pills, watch TV, and so on. And the stuff had begun to creep onto it permanently. Baskets of pills, his mug of water with a straw, his juice container, his laptop computer and charger, the silver bell I’d placed there for him to use if he needed to get my attention and had lost his phone, his magazines, books, piles of papers, numerous TV remotes, and so on.
This table where we used to hold celebrations is now the place where we are slowly processing the enormity of the change in our lives, the difficulty of living with disability. So, I guess it is understandable that it is more than a bit messy, and that it has become the focus for my dissatisfaction.