The Breast Blog: A Historic Event
Last night, I sat listening to CBC Radio's glorious account of Canadian writer and historian Pierre Burton's life's work and style. Mr. Burton had died on November 30 at 84 years of age.Clearly a man in love with his country, he was repeatedly credited with making Canadian history wildly interesting, thus helping us Canuck's grasp our own uniqueness. Described as sophisticated, a rugged wilderness enthusiast and boldly outspoken, I found myself attracted to the idea that those traits were held by one person.
On my coffee table lay a newly opened gift from the widower of a woman who had died of breast cancer in 2001. According to the attached note, following her mastectomy, Terry had created a clay version of her cancerous breast. Carefully painted, glazed and fired, this perfect rendition was now mine. Her widower had bequeathed it to me out of a need to move on, create space for himself yet leave this meaningful piece of art in good hands.
I never met Terry. But since meeting her husband several times over the last two year's, I've learned much about the woman. Mostly I simply listened to his stories. It seemed they needed to be repeate more than captured. But I remember being told that during the later stages of her very painful illness, Terry fashioned a tee-shirt that simply read..."It's the narcotics." Her directness and black humour struck a cord with me. Posthumously, Terry became my friend too.
Pierre Burton once said to writer Russell Smith, " Writers think and read."
I'm a writer. Thanks to my work I think and read about breasts.
