![Linda Ackerman, [W]hole](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/268d63_39d04fb9ff794ee4b51cba089dfb4618~mv2.png/v1/fill/w_441,h_673,al_c,q_85,enc_avif,quality_auto/268d63_39d04fb9ff794ee4b51cba089dfb4618~mv2.png)
A couple of years after her mastectomy, my mother made a beautiful sculpture of a woman with one breast and one space where her other breast had been. She called the piece “[W]hole.”
Here’s what she wrote about it in a catalogue that accompanied a show where it was displayed along with the work of other breast cancer survivors:
“[W]hole, an offering of my innermost being was born without fanfare or warning in early 2002, 2 years after my treatment for breast cancer was successfully concluded.
Since then, I have come to understand that my subconscious is the seat of both self-protective denial and protean creativity, whose union gave life to [W]hole, a triumphant ode to survival.
Although I’ve produced a handful of striking male busts, my more affecting work is a corpus of female figures, my personal exploration of the feminine condition. These women are depicted in many guises, from ancient goddesses to pregnant laborers: each projects her own radiance and character; together, they constitute a sorority of powerful, beautiful women connected by their sisterhood.”
Leave it to my mom to be so layered. To find wholeness where she felt a hole. To create beauty and inspiration out of fear and uncertainty.
As I get closer to launching my book, I have thought long and hard about how women heal. I’ve been studying up on how creativity can aid physical and emotional healing. It is undeniable: music, art and storytelling are more than a comfort and an outlet, they are essential. What’s more, women, as the culture keepers, are lighting the way, huddling up and making sure that the stories get told. Here’s to all the women who do this work.
And thanks, mom.
