As I grow into the artist I aim to be, I excavate the life I have had so far to learn and reflect. Writing is integral to my creative process and is part of my bodies of work - explaining and underpinning the meaning to the viewer. This body of work is called 'Protecting the self' and this is the writing that accompanies it.
Protecting the Self.
Staring at the face before me, I don’t recognise myself but I feel that they were me.
The faces are abstract – not a likeness but a raw representation of who I am and where I have been emotionally. I see a woman tortured by the pain that she carries around with her. Who am I writing this for? Is it me or others?
The pain is so clear – the shame of not being able to protect herself from others- of not keeping those boundaries firm. I look into the distorted faces and I see me – I feel me. They describe the words in my head – they are the words on the page. They are my sleepless nights, as I wake at 2am, my exhausted body and soul refuse to sleep so to placate and soothe my nervous system. I thought I was hiding it but I was not – I am not. I can feel myself seeping out of the boundaries of my body and leaking my toxic emotion into everything that I do. I am no longer able to contain the years of conforming – pretending to be who others want me to be but I have to be held. I have to be held in a space so I can work out what is true and what is not. So I can work out what is me and what is not.
These pictures are me they are elements of my soul – delicate – unsure as I move forward towards a greater sense of self.
The boundaries were blurred so I have held them – held them within the space with every brush stroke. Every brush stroke on the cork tile is an act of love – I am giving myself a boundary – a space – a holding in which to exist. The depth of colour represents the strength of the boundary – sometimes the strength within. I have to hold myself – hold myself in the space.
The lighter the boundary, the less strength I have to hold myself – to protect me.
The world I exist in is full of others that need me to hold their space – want me to hold their hand until I have lost every sense of who I am.
I have a drive a determination, a need, a drive, a must – to hold me and to be truly me, and find my voice – my art – my work is my voice. I am setting my boundaries and this is the work.
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