Sometimes it still hits me. Like out of nowhere. I think of him, I feel him. My heart stops for a second. I remember he’s gone.
Five years later and still.
I wonder if that will ever stop. But I don’t really want it to.
Why am I such a misfit?
Too timid for the cool kids; too weird for the mainstream. Wondering where my work truely fits in.
Perhaps I don’t let myself say what is fighting to come out, programmed to censor myself, preoccupied with what others will think and say, struggling against some expected confines of what a woman my age should be (whatever the fuck that is) that I absorbed along the way. Worried about embarrassing my sons with my subject matter (But they’ve told me they don’t care if I paint dolls with vaginas!)
Scarred and scared from the manipulation and betrayal of a most recent relationship (But I kicked his ass out! I was triumphant! But the damage remains.) Semi-paralyzed with anxiety, doubt, insecurity… Fuck that! I’ve got “bells” too! I’m gonna put on my happy clown face and paint them!
He was beautiful and brilliant and funny. That jacket still feels like him. Even though it’s gone through the wash. I can’t wear it. It feels too heavy.
“Her series of still lifes are a case in point, “full of texture and shadows, sad and happy at the same time.” A cherub gambols amid toys. A stuffed animal bunny poses with a skull. Her paintings seem to understand ephemera as treasure. There are no people represented, except indirectly, and so there are people everywhere. These are strange, unexpected communities, where the softness of life coexists with the hard and mechanical, where loss is palpable, but so is survival, and where difference becomes a risk worth taking.”
Read the full article, written by my dear friend Chael Needle, here…
December showcases the artwork of…ME… at Tattoo Revival on Trade Street in Winston-Salem, NC. For this show, my still life paintings combine with self-portraits of my tattooed flesh with vintage-inspired tattoos curtesy of John Slater – artist, tattooer, and owner of Tattoo Revival. It’s a collaborative show, in a sense.
Here’s a sneak peak of some of the details…
The Opening Reception is during December Gallery Hop in Winston-Salem, NC on Friday, December 2nd, 7pm to 10pm. Gallery Hop is always a fun and festive occasion! And I’m doubly excited to be showing my work and hanging out with the awesome human beings at Tattoo Revival.
Tattoo Revival is not just an awesome tattoo shop, it’s also an aspiring art gallery. They participate in Gallery Hop every month and highlight a featured artist every month. (As you probably already know if live in the Triad.) They are a great (fairly recent) addition to the arts district – a warm and welcoming shop with friendly staff, creating a kind-of hybrid business: tattoo shop/art gallery that highlights the fact that a good tattoo starts with a good artist, legitimizing the idea of tattoo as art form. I sound like an ad but I love that place!
Everybody loves this painting. At least I’ve never heard any negative feedback about it. Apparently, the rich colors and the energy draw people to it. A couple of little old ladies were enjoying it one day and remarked on the amount of “depth” in it. I just stood there trying not to giggle. The label only revealed part of the title: I’m so much more…
The whole title is: I’m so much more than my sweet magical pussy
A feminist rant in response to a time when most men who approached me only pretended to be interested in my talent, my intellect, what I had to say before promptly hitting on me. A time when, to some, I was not much more than a booty call. This was disappointing to me, to say the least!
As I stood before a blank canvas with all these frustrations overtaking me, I scribbled the phrase with a heavy black oil stick. Then I started applying the color over it. And several layers and days later, I was content with this finished product. Even though I was slightly embarrassed to show it at first.
With all the recent talk about the word “pussy” (one of my favorite words, by the way) I thought it apropos to include mine.