the show statement for “Cycles” opening September 2nd at JW Jewelry & Home
You can only get so much from an artist statement. For those who are curious, this is a more in depth look at my concept and the meanings behind the pieces in “Cycles”.
My newest collection of cyanotypes has been a labor of love. This will be the first time I show work publicly that is this full of meaning and emotion. Really! I’ve always guarded my heart a bit when it comes to my art. Even if a piece came from a place of deep contemplation, I never talked about it, let alone wrote a whole article on it. This work started from a place of pain. I won’t sugar coat it. I got to know myself through this process.
“We tend to imagine that our lives are linear, but in fact, they are cyclical.” - Katherine May
At its most basic “Cycles” is about just that, cycles. The cycles and seasons of nature directly relate to our own cycles and seasons in our lives. I recently read Katherine May’s “Wintering” and was shocked that her message was spot-on what I was trying to communicate with this work. I had already written the statement and everything. I know I’m not the first one to compare environmental seasons and human emotions, but the timing was weird. I have personally been going through my own “winter” and getting back in touch with my own cycles as a woman, but there is much more to this work than just that.
“If we don’t allow ourselves the fundamental honesty of our own sadness, then we miss an important quest to adapt.” - Katherine May
I was a sensitive person growing up. I’ve always had a big heart for animals and I tend to see things that other people overlook. I had always fought her, the sensitive Sarah. She got in the way and was a nuisance when it came to working with homeless animals and people, not to mention getting numerous rejections in the art business. It felt like I cared TOO much to the point of my own detriment. So I buried her for a long time. I hardened my heart and built a lot of walls. When it came to my art I was very vague about any meaning, if anything at all.
In the past few years, I have confronted those walls and started to take charge of my mental health. After some intensive therapy sessions last year, I slowly found my sensitive side again. I coaxed her back out during lockdown, pandemic, getting laid off from my day job (twice), my husband getting laid off, and more loss than I thought I was capable of bearing. It has taken almost three years to come to a point where I am (semi) comfortable talking about it.
So here goes nothin’.
I’ve never wanted children. My husband and I made that decision pretty early on in our relationship. We’ve been together for over 18 years and never once wavered in that decision. I won’t go into the long list of reasons, but the point is we have always been in agreement.
After my therapy sessions, I felt a great emptiness. It was a feeling that I had deprived myself and my partner of one of life’s greatest gifts. I still knew I didn’t actually want children, but I went into a sort of mourning. I was grieving for something or someone that I never had, that I never gave a chance. It may sound crazy to anyone who has always wanted children and even crazier to those of you who don’t. I can’t explain it any other way. I tried. I first tried journaling, and then meditating, and then came poetry.
“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” - Mary Oliver
I began to write poetry back in January of this year. The words spilled out of me so fast that I sometimes had to use the voice memo on my iPhone to get it all out because I couldn’t write or type fast enough. I used to do some creative writing as a kid and in college, but I’d never attempted poetry or any kind of prose. I thought there were some kind of rules I had to follow, and had no idea what the word syntax even meant. I had read a lot of poetry, but never studied it. Mary Oliver is my favorite poet. She has a way of describing nature that really resonates with me. When I first started writing, I kind of followed her lead. My words were very flowery and descriptive, and I guess they still are.
My goal is to publish these poems in a book someday, alongside the corresponding cyanotypes. For now I’ll share them here. You can see some on my Instagram too. I’ll give explanations where I think they are needed. These poems are important when viewing this new body of cyanotypes. In fact most of the titles are lines from my poems or pulled from my journal. The work can stand on it’s own as visual art, but I think it is more powerful when you know where it came from.
This is so incredibly vulnerable for me to put out there. I’m cringing while writing this. Honestly, if you ask me about this in person, I might just melt into a puddle of embarrassment.
I’m starting with one of the first poems I wrote in 2022. I was waiting for my flight to go visit my mom and stepdad in the bitter cold. I think it was something like 9 degrees outside. I had been waiting for hours and my flight ended up being canceled, so I canceled the whole trip and went back home.
golden hour
Bird in the airport
A lost bird flutters past
she is surrounded by light
but a hard crystal keeps her inside
She sings and calls
she pecks the glass
In the rampage
The giant metal birds brag
in the sprawling expanse
So close to freedom
she huddles against the cold barrier
This must be home now
she accepts her fate
A life inside
-Sarah Day-Short
This next one is from a few months later. January is a hard month for me. I was trying to hype myself up.
“let go, so that new life may grow”
you have the power to heal your wounds
Awaken that which is already within
buried under the broken branches
so that new life may grow
- excerpt from Message from the Mushroom
the sun’s return
with each passing year, I fear it won’t return
I’ll be trapped in the dark winter of my mind, forever
But the sun always returns
or rather, the earth moves in such a way to reunite us
- excerpt from The Sun’s Return
This next one is taken from an Instagram post and relates to emotional seasons and actual environmental seasons. This is where I first started focusing on drawing that connection.
I started experimenting with cyanotypes shortly after I wrote Okie Spring Awakening.
These last few are excerpts from writings about my frustration with my monthly cycle and the hormonal mood swings that come with it. They also relate to the internal struggle I spoke about earlier, the feeling of mourning a child that I never had.
her body, a battleground
Self love is a struggle
as her body is a battleground
bloody too often
curled fetal
- excerpt from Flow
making magic in our wombs
the moon
that rules the tides
and makes magic in our wombs
lighting our way in the dark
under seemingly tiny stars
-excerpt from journal
a childless mother
a childless mother, wandering
looking for a way
searching for acceptance
- excerpt from therapy notes
turning sadness into something beautiful
uncertainty, who will she be today?
Eyes open in the morning, so unsure
Emotional whiplash, on the defense
Crawl back into exhausted psyche
Still searching for predictability
- excerpt from Irregularity
I’ll stop there for now. I would love any feedback, even more so, after you’ve seen the show at JW Jewelry & Home. I hope this gives some insight into my intentions with this work. Someday I will organize this writing a bit better and put it all into a book. For now, enjoy this little sneak peek. Thanks for reading!
