MY REFLECTIONS AFTER MY TUTORIAL W/JONATHAN, PUBLISHED ON MY BIRTHDAY
We discussed a lot of very interesting points. It started with me feeling mostly Overwhelmed, which is the feeling that doesn’t seem to leave me in the recent months. I feel overwhelmed with trying to meet the expectations of others from me as well as the expectations I have from myself: the expectations of my children, of my husband, of my parents. On top of that stressing out with making sure I get the most out of the course, I do it “right” and make the right choices that will result in a “successfull” artist career. And so many ideas: exhibitions participation, painting on fridges, making paper lamps, wanting to make robotic installations, wanting to paint clouds and water, wanting to participate in as many things as possible but also o have tie to work in the studio and explore but also having the time to do everything from 9am-3pm only. And when I finally do get a chance to focus on my work and think about it, what does it all actually mean?
What do the fridge doors mean? Empty fridge on a turning around pole going through the fridge, which is empty inside the doors are open. Maybe something is filling out of the fridge maybe not the idea that women who become mothers are supposed to be willing to constantly just give it provide and be full of be full of resources and then when they run out of those resources or those resources are no longer needed because children grow up they don’t need the mother anymore. Parents die so she doesn’t need to care for them anymore. What happens she becomes obsolete like that broken fridge broken empty fridge in spirals into madness or does she find a way to function differently?
The one that stayed with me the most was the last thing we talked about: The paper lamps, making more and creating a multiple paper lamp piece for the Interim show. We discussed the thoughts related to why I created them, so I decided to write that down:
I am bruised. I am stretched out. I can no longer provide. The overwhelming experiences have left me deflated, dried out, wrinkled. I am the fear of eventually no longer being needed and therefore I fall apart. But then I get up, I pick up the pieces. I stitch them back together. And I glow. I radiate more light than ever before, from the deepest pain I stitch my whole self. The eternal wisdom glow that came from my life’s experiences and the experiences of women before me. I can be reborn. No longer my old self, which I have been mourning since the birth of my children. No longer the fighting for space and attention, angry, raging, in constant fight for not being visible enough. But free, with steady heartbeat glow behind a wrinkled veil of skin stretched out by experiences.
