Tag Archives: encaustics

Bathroom Window

Windows have always been a recurring theme in my work. There is something about them that draws me in. I see them as tiny portraits with a soft anonymity. Outside the frame, I usually know nothing about the people who spend their time on the other side of the glass. The audience is left only to make their own judgements, form connections or experience nostalgia in whatever way behooves them.

The image below is of my own bathroom window, taken from inside the home looking out. This is a new perspective for me, most of the time I am on the outside looking in. The irony is, I equate my images of windows as anonymous portraits as I stated above.  Here it becomes a self-portrait. I see myself as the vine, and this is what the movement of my life looks like.

 

Bathroom-Window-Web

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Pedestal

What is ego anyway? The textbook definition says; “A person’s sense of self-esteem or self-importance.” What is self-esteem? What is self-importance? A pedestal of sorts, where we all sit perched. While our ego delegates the day; what to wear, where to go, whats in, whats out, who’s hot and who’s not. She’s a slut and he’s never cried. She must be crazy. His dick must be big. Everyday we make judgements. Everyday we assert some sort of power to make ourselves feel better, usually at the expense of somebody else.

The stench of this trash is so rancid, we no longer remember what it’s like to be nice. Women compete with other women, rather then rally with one another. We have the same parts and we are on the same team yet, we would cut our sister with a knife for a man? I’m not claiming to be a saint. I have done things I’m not proud of. I am not perfect, nor am I better than anyone else. There is however, a sense of real pride that comes from standing on your own. Standing up tall and proud; using your sense of self-esteem and self-importance to perpetuate the greater good.  Patti Smith once said, “In art and dream may you walk with abandon. In life, may you walk with balance and stealth.”

This is my pedestal.

Pedestal

 

 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

Shedding

How many times undone can one person be? Ani DiFranco once said. The skin will always be there, until it sheds. Shedding is destruction on the most molecular level. The dead cells of our skin flake away slowly over time until, every seven years or so, our body has completely regenerated itself. Every cell has been replaced by a brand new cell. Every seven years, we essentially become new. Reborn.

We shed more then skin.

I bleed for several days, once a month. I shed the lining of my uterus because I’m not having a baby. Metaphorically speaking, what is washed out with my menstrual blood is more than just the lining of my uterus. It sheds the bad day I had last week, it sheds every time I allowed a person to hurt me, it sheds my vulnerability, my fear, my regrets, my loneliness, my anger. It reminds me that I, in fact, am still human, it allows me to feel and let go of things that don’t deserve my head space or emotional energy. Every full moon, I bleed. Every full moon, I start over. Female sex organs are located in the second chakra, The Sacral Chakra. This is the epicenter of feeling, emotion, pleasure, sensuality, intimacy, and connection. The energy of this chakra allows you to let go, to move, and to feel change and transformation occurring within your body. It allows you to experience this moment as it is, in its own fullness. This is also the chakra in which life is made. Every month I am reminded of my feminine power. I can make life, I can make breath. Whether I choose to or not, is not the point. The point is that I can.

In this world, in which we all live, it’s easy to forget. Us girls are still considered second class, and once upon a time menstrual blood was considered sacred. Our uterus is in the sacral chakra after all.

This is me shedding.

Shedding

Tagged , , , , , , ,

How I Fall

I used to have this recurring dream where, I would get catapulted out into space and almost instantly start to descend. Right before I hit the sidewalk, I would wake up. I haven’t had this dream for quite a while. I’m still not sure I ever knew what it meant. The concept of falling; we fall in love, we fall off our bike, we fall for bullshit, we fall short of someone’s expectations. We just fall. People choose to jump off of buildings to end their lives, as dark as that may be, it happens. The feeling of when we physically fall, or fall in love is practically identical. Both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Butterflies and nausea all at once. Fear and acceptance.

But when we make the choice to “jump ship”, in whatever metaphorical sense we decide, we always have the choice. It is ours to make. It is a bit like falling, after all, the uncertainty that comes with making a radical change in our lives leaves our tummies turning; the excitement is just as real. We are never sure exactly where we will land, while we fall into place in our lives. It is good, it is hard, its sporadic and it is rewarding in the end. The fear will eventually subside and acceptance of ones fate is allowed room to breathe. When the pain of not changing is exceeded by the pain of actually changing, the change will manifest itself and take shape.

This is how I fall.

How I Fall

 

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Breaking the Spell

Stand the fuck up and dust yourself off.

The goddesses are still working hard.

Open your eyes and relearn to see,

you’ve been asleep for far too long.

There is a great big world

waiting

for you to make your presence known.

Get down to business, girl

after all

you only get one.

Shake off the spell thats been cast on your soul.

Peel back the layers of skin;

reemerge from the ashes and flames.

Dance again

Let the wind take you higher than ever before.

This is life,

after all,

this is living.

Breaking the Spell

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

Things He Said

There once was a girl, who once loved a man.

She gave and she gave, with very little given back.

She saw through glasses made of roses,

while washing the world with good intentions.

One winter evening at a party with friends,

her world fell apart with the things that he said.

“I tell you I love you, but I don’t love you,”

He said.

She sat staring

Her eyes glazed

Her face contorted

In confusion

“I think you’re stupid; I think you’re the devil,”

He said.

She staggered to her feet

Failures complete

Her body felt heavy

Her head was dizzy

“There is nothing for you here, girl.”

He said.

“Just big dark love, girl.”

She felt lost and alone,

with nothing to do but run.

There is hope for the flowers,

in this great big world.

There is lots more living to do,

for this caterpillar girl.

She built her cocoon and is ready for change.

It’s only a matter of time

Til she emerges as a butterfly.

Things He Said

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

She Waits

Imagine living in a box,

wanting to so desperately to break free.

Imagine waiting so patiently,

for something founded on fantasy.

If only she could destroy reality,

by washing her hands clean.

“Remember to breathe,” she said,

“when you break all the locks.

Pry open the source of this madness.

The bathroom mirror does not lie.

Find solace in this sadness,

allow yourself to be free.”

She said

She Waits

 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

Completely Me

I recently went to my very first burn. LOF 2015. It was such a transformative experience, that I decided to stop shaving my armpits and stop wearing deodorant. Something shifted within and I embraced my true self. Animal instincts, flaws, awesomeness and everything else that makes me, me.

I began contemplating the concept of gender. The more I tried to decipher the difference between men and women (for mere observational reasons) the more the differences seemed to disappear. Simply, we are all human, both animalistic and intelligent beings alike. We have hair in “unwanted” places and repress some of our most basic instincts to keep up appearances with society. Where is the freedom in that? Nina Simone recently taught me that, “to be truly free is to live without fear.” It doesn’t seem to get more real than that. It also takes guts, to push the boundaries of what society says is acceptable and unacceptable.

Furthermore, gender roles are learned behavior, we are taught what “being a lady” is supposed to look like, what “being a man” means. I’m here to tell you, its all bullshit. All babies begin as female, for lack of a better term, men have nipples because they develop faster in the womb than the rest of our sexual organs.

So this begs the question, what really separates us, if anything at all?

Completely Me

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Blue Flower Plate II

There is something about Queen Anne’s Lace that draws me. This being the second image of the flower I have posted here, (See Blue Flower), I have to say it is probably one of my favorite “weeds” or wild flowers or better yet, “wild weeds”. It is an extremely invasive plant on a lot of levels, so most avid gardeners consider it a weed. I find it to be gorgeous, so delicate looking. The roots at early stages are in fact edible, but will turn bitter quite fast.

I don’t really know a whole lot about it other than, it is not native to this area, it was brought over during European settlement. However, with my attempt to maintain the connection to my self-portrait work… It is the aspect of lace that I want to talk about. So soft and so delicate, yet sturdy and stronger then it appears. I plan on incorporating some lace into my encaustic work very soon. Collage it, wear it, drape it over myself… I like the aesthetic lace gives off. The design and texture speak to me. It also lends itself very well to encaustic work.

Furthermore, there is something about Queen Anne’s Lace that resonates strongly with me. I see myself in this wild and carefree species of plant life. Delicate, yet strong, wild and attractive, soft and bitter all at the same time. I am a soul that dances along the wind and ends up exactly where I’m supposed to be right when I need to. I would not want to live any other way.

 

Blue Flower Plate II

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,