Connecting Generations of Women through Art
- Anna Nike Leskowsky
- Apr 24
- 4 min read
By Anna Nike Leskowsky
When I painted Mother with the Royal Earring, I wanted to pay tribute to my mother, a strong and talented woman who could always solve life's problems with confidence and peace in her heart. My mother was an architect, writer, and an artist who painted watercolour landscapes in her spare time. I missed her after she passed away in November of 2010, so I drew and painted her portraits and wrote reflections about her. Without a doubt, she was one of the most influential people in my life.
After I came to Canada from Poland thirty-five years ago and settled in Toronto, my mother was my main source of emotional support. I called her once a week, sharing the ups and downs of my adjustment to a different culture and the new language in the country of my dreams. She knew exactly how to help me with my anxieties and worries about my future in my new surroundings. I needed her support. I came here with a very young daughter. Consequently, my situation was complex, and only my mother was able to instill in me the confidence I desperately needed.
“Write and paint every time you feel uncertain,” she said in one of our telephone conversations. “Don’t dwell on difficulties or failures. They all are necessary to get you where you are supposed to be.” That’s how painting became my therapy. Combined with writing poetry and journal reflections, I noticed that my fear of the unknown was gradually disappearing. I was using my mother’s wisdom at work when I became a teacher. Her words were often streaming in my head: “problems are to solve, not to worry about.”
After she passed away, I continued our conversations through my artwork. When I drew her as a young ballerina, I felt joy that seemed to be sent directly from her to me. When I painted a portrait of my family including her, my father, and my two brothers, revealing our image from the time when we were all young and waiting for our lives to evolve, I had imaginary discussions with her about how to be a good mother to my now adult daughter and how to be a good wife to my husband.
The portrait of her on a boat in the sea with a young daughter is based on a fantasy, in which her face was remarkably youthful, her clothes were from a bygone era, and the surroundings were mystical. She came from my dreams, a symbol of a mother rather than the one I remembered from the past. The orange scarf covered her head and kept her daughter warm. A deep green dress looked as if it was crafted centuries ago. Her blue eyes reflected a peaceful seascape. And then, there was an earring “borrowed” from Diana, Princess of Wales’ jewelry collection. I wanted to make a statement about the royalty of motherhood. My mother deserved this earring as a symbol of love and beauty.
The little girl is asleep in my painting because she felt safe. The mother is watching over her, ready to help with anything she might need in her life. First, I thought I was painting an image of myself as a daughter, but I quickly realized that I was actually painting my daughter’s portrait from the time she was very young. Once I finished creating her likeness, I was fully aware of my feelings for both my mother and daughter.
During this creative process, I symbolically skipped through generations. I ignored the sequence of time because what really mattered were these two women, my mother, who was long gone, and my daughter, who was already approaching forty. They have both modelled for me an unconditional love, certainty, and the need to give to others more than I would like to take from them in my life. My daughter became a part of my artistic expressions. I encouraged her to follow her dreams to become exactly what she has imagined for herself. She, in return, became my prime enthusiastic and vocal supporter in developing my own voice and personality that I didn’t need to deny for myself or hide from anybody.
There are certain expectations in our society that we all need to meet. As a teacher, I believed that my primary responsibility was to support my students’ talents and their emotional needs. I was ready to sacrifice my own personal obligations and prioritize my students’ development without challenging this approach. Even as a friend, I went out of my way to comfort others who shared their dramas and insecurities with me, but as a wife and mother, I knew that my family needed to be taken care of first before I could support my interests or individual objectives.
I lost my mother fifteen years ago. If she were still here, I know she would direct me to be kinder to myself. At the same time, my daughter has matured into a wise woman who reminded me about my first responsibility to myself, my talents, my joy, and my needs. This is how my paintings developed into a gallery for my family and friends in my own bedroom. This is how my poetry became ready to share with my readers. This is how my journalistic work blossomed, allowing me to share my experiences with others. The relationships with my mother and my daughter supported my creativity.
Every morning when I wake up, I look at my many paintings displayed on the wall of my art studio/bedroom/home office, but one of the paintings always stands out, confirming that I am never alone. My mother, my daughter, and I are always emotionally connected through love, peace, and the beauty of motherhood.
Anna Nike Leskowsky is a retired elementary school teacher, journalist, poet, and a self-taught artist. Her journalistic and creative writings have been published in Canadian Teacher Magazine, Canadian Immigrant Magazine, Canadian Art Therapy Association Magazine “Envisage”, Wax Poetry and Art Magazines, The Toronto Star, and college textbooks. The images of her drawings and paintings have been featured in Envisage and Wax Poetry and Art. Anna Nike lives in Toronto.
