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When, during her puberty, she was ordered to live at her mothers place, my mother went through a total makeover into a suitable young woman ready for marriage. This was quite a traumatic experience for her. The first half year of her arrival at the house, she was so afraid to say, or do, something inappropriate, she only preferred one place to hide: underneath the kitchen table downstairs.
That, after a while, it turned out alright didn't had so much to do with my grandmother, but her new husband.
However he wasn't her natural father, as part of the matrimonial vows he demanded the comeback of the little girl he loved dearly.
Yet in-spite of all, my mother would always long back to paradise. The warm and uncomplicated years spend on the only place where she really felt belonging. So often I made little country rides with her to her childhoods town. Every house, every tree, felt familiar. For her it was like time never seemed to change there.
Even Dow at a certain moment the road trough town got modernized and in the process the farm, she considered home for such a long time, had been removed.
 
My dads nickname for my mother was birdie. And indeed she was a gorgeous little bird of paradise. Loving to fly high and free. Most of the time forgetting to keep her feet down to earth. A diva always surrounded by lots and lots of flowers. Like it was on  the many concourses des automobiles where she loved to show-of in her flowered car.
At first side it looked like all the goodies of life flew into her direction. Yet in spite of the benefits of her new life never inner turmoil stopped haunting her. It was only when she got old and grey she would find more peace inside.
Actually this happened when she started to be more and more as a child again. My child this was. A change of patron I could only grant her after I had freed myself from her pains and sorrows first.

It felt so good to see how bit by bit her neuroses started to fade out and notice from behind bubbled up an enchanting purity. Often she could surprise me with words of wisdom, or funny surprises. Like her wish to play at her funeral Birds of paradise by Snowy White.
"Do you think I am a foolish old woman to like this music so much?"
"Course not, mom! I just love it to have such a hip mom!"
With the wish for the music came also another one.
"When the day comes will you decorate my coffin yourself, please?"
Having inherit her taste for flowers I told her to do even better.
"The all of us are going to do that ourselves. Just tell what you would like to have".

And so one cold day in January some years ago we did. Sparkling with lots and lots of her favorite pink roses. In spite of our sadness these were real intimate hours. It was wonderful to be busy and talk about her and at the same time give our utmost to let our little birdie, for a very last time, fly high once more.

What you see at the picture is the work half way done.The flower fairy dwasn't ready yet with her finishing touch. You see, in the end the coffin would get totally covered. (I don't have a suitable picture of the end result)

For the movie I used mom's favorite roses and the kind of orchids with little clowns faces, she fancied such a lot. I like to use objects which belonged to her. This way the birdie came from a Japanese antique shrine and you can see details from an old red chamber screen.

The idea for it came when I recently - it was January once more again - suddenly listened how the played Birds of paradise again on the radio. This time I was in the mood to create my tribute by expressing the process of transformation of our beloved hurt birdie.
   


 

 Some tips and tricks to see the five minute during movie.

The movie is quite heavy and therefore acquires a fast connection
It's best to shut down all other program's on your PC first