I Want To Lay You Down In A Bed Of Roses

By Miki de Goodaboom

I was recently watching a  dramatic German TV film, about a young girl surviving a car accident in which she lost her mother. As she never knew her father, she was first taken in by her grand-parents, but the girl was too much trouble and the grand-parents could not deal with it. So the best friend of the girl’s mother, a married man, decided to take her home. But the troubles went on, even worse as the girl was jealous of the man’s wife.  At some point, no more knowing what to do with her, he went to her old house and got her beloved Teddy Tear, which had been left behind in the whole chaos following the accident. He brought Teddy to the girl, hoping that he at least could help her.

But some hours later, as  he entered her room, he saw the bear lying there, abandoned as if dead, and she  totally disconnected, lost in her thoughts from another world where there was no place any more for her Teddy bear.

Well, this image hurt me immensely, so much more than any of the tough scenes I had seen in the film. It just broke my heart. To me it was the strongest symbol of the girl’s despair. When Teddy can’t help any more, then nothing else can help… I know exactly that if the day comes when I won’t be bothered any more about my dear Truffle McFurry , then my life will stop.

I know it is a heavy subject, but I had to paint it and to write about it. And as it often happens when I paint, Teddy was suddenly lying on a red surface and Bon Jovi’s song came instantaneously to my head. For the next few days I could not stop hearing it haunting my inner space:

I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses …”

I Want To Lay You Down On A Bed Of Roses Bis S



By Kev Le Chat

(Illustration by Miki de Goodaboom)

When I was a reasonably typical thoughtless twenty-something, I was hit with something that was hard to comprehend. My Mum was diagnosed with cancer.  Being useless at expressing my feelings properly at the best of times, I did something spontaneous….I bought her a big teddy bear. It was probably a bit mental really, but in fact, felt like the completely natural thing to do, and she kept it in her bedroom always.

When she passed away, it came to me. I don’t know if she never named him, perhaps she did. But I so know that he is a lovely reminder of my Mum, not a painful one. When we visited New Orleans many years later, Miki and I brought him some Mardis Gras beads and some New Orleans Saints sunglasses, shaled like fleur-de-lys. He’s become somehow synoymous with The Big Easy since then! …and the French connection doesn’t end there, because on Planet Goodaboom, he was given a name ( you can’t live there without one) …it is Camembear!

Bear on Bourbon S copy