Belinda
Belinda is a puppet maker and performer.
Her mum died in 2017 and her dad died in 2018. They both had dementia.
“When I first made this puppet, I wanted him to be a character. He was Thomas, the ship’s carpenter. I made him a jumper and a little pipe.
But then I thought “This isn’t right - it’s my dad. I’ve made my dad.” There’s so much of him in him - his body, his bit of a tum.
See the ridges in his hand? My dad had those. You get those ridges from strength. If I use certain gestures and laughs, he’s very much like him.
My dad was a shirt and tie man. But in his later life, I saw him in a vest. So I took off the jumper and I made him a vest. He spent a year being my dad, and then he went back to being Thomas.
I see beauty in old men now that I never saw before.
I did an online course in lockdown.
It was step-by-step, all about the wood and your breathing and being mindful. It was very holistic, rather than ‘This is what you’re going to produce; this is what you’ll need.’
It started simple and worked up to being more complex. We made hand puppets and table top puppets you use with one hand, then finally we ended up learning how to make marionettes with strings.
The connection with wood felt very important. My dad was a clerk, a cashier. But he did woodcarving in his spare time. I loved the things he made. I inherited his tools.
From my mum’s side, I get the more theatrical side of things. When I was very little, she taught me how to sew. I’ve got her sewing machine.
With puppet-making, there’s a carving element and costume making. I love the fact I’m bringing my mum and dad’s skills together.
Because I am that mix.
I’d go blackberry picking with my dad. It was something we could do that was familiar to us both.
It was a way of navigating the horrorshow with moments of joy. Of reminding him that he was my daddy.
We sang songs together. Those memories are powerful. Sweet and innocent.
With dementia, there isn’t a linear timeline; it’s all present. His grandma dying, his parents being alive…there’s only one time and that’s now, and that’s all the time that there’s ever been.
“I’m amalgamating their inspirations with my interests. I’m digging into the past, uncovering roots.”
I feel clenching pangs when I think about my dad and my mum. But they’re with me.
I have objects they left behind. And I can use them. I don’t want my mum’s rings; I don’t wear rings. I want things I can make stuff with.
But it’s not just in the things I have from them, or even the memories.
They’re in the songs I can sing.
My body, my hands, my personality.
I know that this bit belongs to my mum, and this bit belongs to my dad.
I’m amalgamating their inspirations with my interests. I’m digging into the past, uncovering roots.
And I’m asking myself ‘What do I find intriguing? What stories do I want to tell?’”