Keep your legislation away from my body. Period.

Unless you've been hiding under a rock, I'm sure you're well aware of the Republican 'war on women' in the United States. Since the 2010 midterms, legislators in dozens of states have systematically worked to undermine Roe v. Wade and close Planned Parenthood and other women's health care facilities, severely restricting access to abortion, which is still, supposedly, a constitutional right.

As of now, there are several U.S. states where abortion clinics have been almost or completely legislated out of existence: Mississippi, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Arkansas, among others.

I'm sure you have heard of "Governor Ultrasound". First, Robert McDonnell of Virginia, then, months later, Scott Walker of Wisconsin signed legislation that forces women seeking an abortion to undergo a medically unnecessary trans-vaginal ultrasound. Despite overwhelming opposition in Texas that included an eleven hour filibuster by Senator Wendy Davis, Governor Rick Perry managed to bring to fruition legislation that will force a majority of abortion clinics in that state to shut their doors.

Why do all of these (typically male) legislators take such a perverse pleasure in controlling other people's bodies?

One of the paintings I am working on now seeks to explore this.


I want to literally tell the story of the pro-choice movement on her body.

Please suggest images I could use to do this; I would add them to her body like tattoos. I want to try to refrain from using words, but feel free to leave links to pictures and stories and/or comment with phrases and ideas.

Unsatisfied

There are times when it is difficult to translate the cerebral to the visual.

My responses to the murder of seventeen-year-old Trayvon Martin made me want to paint, so overwhelming was my outrage, helplessness, and anger. I've written pages and pages in my journals--about the media coverage of this case, about the lack of innocence that implied for those born into a black body, about all the things I felt were done incorrectly by local law enforcement--and I needed to release all of this.

I had a drawing I began months ago whose original story (if there was one) is lost to me now. I began expanding upon it in hopes that I could create a specific visual code to express all that I felt. First, I felt I needed to include the most enduring symbol of this case, the hoodie Trayvon wore the rainy February night he was killed. I then planned to let go, to see where thought and feeling took this piece as I became a mere vessel for the story this painting needed to tell.

Many days have passed. I remain unsatisfied with the image I've created. I realize that it is incomplete. Still, there is more here, trapped between my head, my heart, and my hands.

"Flee", but from what? Where?

Flee
9"x12"
acrylic on canvas

I am a restless person at times, often easily frustrated, and this painting is a product of that. I've long felt as if there were external forces holding me in place and I was powerless to change them; I am moving forward, but not nearly fast enough for me.

I can't flee from myself. In the end, I know I will be right where I'd expect, with all the faults and flaws I've always had.

Purify (Darkness to Light)

My fascination with the human figure also extends to its underlying components--the skeleton, organs, organ systems, and musculature. I really like looking through anatomy textbooks; it is easy to see the beauty of all that lies under our skin. I then combine that with surrealistic elements--like changing the size of organs in relation to other organs or adding elements that would never exist inside one's body, such as flowers--to tell a story: in this case, of things that are wild, with a certain roughness to them, seeking light where there is none.

Purify (Darkness to Light)
9"x12"
acrylic on canvas panel

On Self-Portraits and "I Am"

A lot of what I create are self-portraits. I often use images of my face and body as metaphor, to tell a story of which I am only a small part. In the past, I've referred to myself simply as a vessel; I am to gather Story and bring it into the world.

Despite this, I have a hard time with the idea of my self-portrait. It feels a bit vain, a little self-indulgent to sit in front of a mirror (or looking at a photograph of myself) for the time it takes to draw or paint my own image, so that it is not just a reflection of what I see but an image that others would want to look at, not because it is me but because there is something there that makes them want to take a look at themselves.

A friend once told me that she sees a vulnerability to my work that mirrors that of my personality; maybe shying away from calling a work a self-portrait is another part of that?

"I Am"

11"x14"

acrylic on canvas

To the left of my face in "I Am" is an open, empty bird cage. Falling from it are rainbow colored feathers. I am what I am.

Trial and error can lead to something special

I've read somewhere that creativity is about making mistakes, while art is about knowing which ones to keep...or something like that. I'm paraphrasing a quote someone tweeted. I think I got it right...it seems right, based on my experiences.

Back to the point of this post: trial and error.

I've wanted to experiment with using acrylic transfers for a while now. There are all sorts of ways to transfer a photocopy of an image to an acrylic painting using gel mediums, but the steps are basically the same: apply medium to photocopy and let dry, soak the copy in water, rub until paper begins to fall away, image should be embedded in acrylic and can be added to the painting using more of the medium.

Or something like that.

In my case, though, the gloss gel medium I have isn't quite as transparent as I'd like, so my results were...less than desirable. In the spirit of the ART FIX In-House Residency Challenge, I want to use what I have.

I'm sure I'll try again later.

I originally began this painting months ago. It was to be a companion piece to "I Fly (Return to A Dream)" but quickly went its own way...and then stopped. I'd work on it a bit here and there, never quite feeling that it was at a place where it could be considered 'complete'.

Now, it is.

I think I'll call it "Climb".

Climb
12" round
acrylic on canvas

Protect

Protect

9"x12"
acrylic on wood

This piece was inspired a lot by a friend of mine and began with a photo of her. In her, there is both someone who fiercely protects and someone who wants to be protected just as fiercely. She is holding on tightly to that flower, but (I hope) not too tightly, so it can continue to grow and flourish, as it has through concrete...or bare skin.

I Fly (Return to a Dream)

I Fly (Return to A Dream)
36"x12"
acrylic on canvas

This piece came when I reread one of my favorite children's books, Tar Beach by Faith Ringgold. In it, I wanted to explore returning to a long forgotten dream. In this case, a dream of flying above all that you think you know about yourself and your surroundings. Only in dreams can you within and outside of yourself to look at all you know again, as if it was the very first time...

One Thousand Swirling Wishes

One Thousand Swirling Wishes
24"x24'
acrylic on canvas

A mug filled with water sitting on the kitchen counter caught my eye...and this is the result. I had fun playing with color here, as well as trying to convey exactly why I was so enamored of such a seemingly simple image.

I remember how, as a child, I referred to fuzzy dandelion seed heads as 'wishes' and believed that each seed would grant me a wish when I blew them off of the seed head to their new homes. There seemed to be a thousand million little 'wishes' sent out into the Universe...

I posted its progress over on my Facebook in my Works in Progress album.

Release (Freedom Belongs to Those Who Know the Beauty and Power of Their Voice)

Release (Freedom Belongs to Those Who Know the Beauty and Power of Their Voice)

12"x9"

acrylic on canvas panel

This painting began with the image of the iris, which reminds me of open spaces: an open mouth, an open wound. Here, it is both, revealing one of the most internal of organs, the heart. To dream, to speak, to look beyond one's current circumstances...this is the freedom all should seek. I'm not foolish or conceited enough to say that I (or anyone) has fully obtained it, but I feel that to stop trying is to stop living.

Prints currently available for purchase via my RedBubble page.

Craving Critique...

When people tell me about a visceral response they've had to something I've created, I feel a cycle is complete somehow. We have exchanged something so...so...so basic and so wonderous that words cannot even begin to describe it. We have communicated at the most elemental of levels, and I am grateful for these exchanges. I always learn from them; they sustain me.

I also crave critique.

What can I do differently?

What new techniques are there that I could employ?

If there is no story for you within the brushstrokes you see before you, no tales between the lines and in the midst of the colors, tell me why? If it scares you, thrills you, or makes you smile, I'd like to know.

Tell me why.

"Release" (tentative title; a work in progress)

The Secrets of Growing Things

The Secrets of Growing Things
48"x24"
acrylic on canvas

This image began, over a year ago, with a photograph I asked someone to take of me.

I guess it is more correct to say it began with the idea to pose this way, with my head down, hands open, sitting cross-legged...

For months, I had the photo, but no idea what to do with it. Eventually, I made a really rough sketch; there was more to it than that, but I didn't know what. I put the photo and sketch aside, not sure if or when I'd return to it.

I'm still not sure when I did and what compelled me to do so.

It took more time for each of the parts of this painting to come to me, from dreams and stray thoughts, from everywhere and nowhere...a friend of mine brought up an interesting point, that over time I have grown the idea of this painting, and that, in and of itself, is another secret of growing things.