24x30 Acrylic/ Canvas/ Gold Leaf/ Art Resin Coated. Ready to hang.
The wound is where the light enters they say and I’m not sure about that. In my experience with pain I haven’t ever at the moment gotten the impression that I had a choice in the matter, what enters into the space created by impact - whether physical or emotional.
Lately, I listen to an audiobook of The Body Keeps The Score. Most of it is way over my head but what does speak to me is the way that trauma lights up the right brain. The right brain is the intuitive, emotional, visual, spatial, tactile, and artistic side. It stores memories of sound, touch, and smell. I have always considered my ability to make art some trade-off I did with God when I wasn’t focused - like please, just give me something, anything except for fear and I’ll do everything I can with it. Sometimes I think every single second of everything I have ever felt has the potential to be a painting and story of its own - my only job is to take care of myself so that I can possess the centeredness and audacity to re-create the soul of each instance - one by one.
I can say never once when I contemplated my dreams of who I would be in the future did I consider the fear I would have to walk through to become her. As it turns out, I am afraid of everything and it’s opposite. Also as it turns out, every single thing that is going to change me into a person capable of receiving what I think I want is outside of my comfort zone, on the other side of fear.
They yell it into microphones on podiums in recovery sometimes. “Every single thing I want is on the other side of what I am avoiding.” It sticks with me. I'd always act tough and judge things I didn’t know how to do because I was too afraid to try. When have I had the guts to try? And when did the courage of that action turn my guts into the illumination of power as a result of walking through fear?
I am still very afraid most of the time - afraid of failure, of being laughed at, of being totally broke, of being ignored, of appearing dumb or trashy. But all of that shit is just shit that I make up. The truth is that all of us are strong. Jesus Christ, we are alive and it’s 2023 that alone is miraculous if you look at the statistics.
I really don’t enjoy working with the color red. It just feels like once the red is down the capacity for expansion in the piece is limited. This was also some shit that I made up. This was the last painting of my collection and I knew it had to be red to tie each painting together - she is by far one of my favorites.
I hope that in this work you experience the visual breakthrough of your self-imposed limitations. The kind that tells you the fear is too much to walk through. The kind that tells you that no light will enter into all of the places where you break. This is a portrait of defiance and audacity - of making the art anyway. Of being, anyway.
What are you becoming anyway?
What do you say
to your fear?
Does it respond?