Waiting...

My motivation for working seems to be dwindling. I look at the pieces I have in process and have no desire to work with them at all. When I came into the studio today I knew that I needed to go with collage so that I would have a place to start. What has been on my mind is that this end part of my pregnancy is a total waiting game. Lately I have been hearing the words of my family members who are convinced that I will go into labor early and it is making the waiting even more unbearable. I sit and wonder if there is something wrong with my body that I'm not holding my baby yet. On the home front, my husband is going through his own form of preparation. I've been teasing him about being the one who is nesting instead of me. He has really done some wonderful work on the house and in the baby's room to get things ready. It's crazy because our lives are on hold waiting for one moment! My artwork reflects this wait and the observation of my husband's nesting instincts. I wonder to myself if I am alone in feeling this way or if other pregnant women or couples experience the same amount of impatience and restlessness.

Belly Mold!

Even though class was canceled today, I spent much of my day engaged in process. This time I had some help from my wonderful husband, Ryan.

I had been doing some reflecting on the processes I had been engaged in. Thinking about the concept of skin, touch and the important role that touch plays in the life of people. I had a recent devotion talking about Jesus touching the lepers and how this was enormously profound because the people he touched often had not had human contact like that in years!!!! Can you imagine not being touched, even a pat on the shoulder for even one week, let alone years!? Anyway, I also was thinking about wanting to document this time in my life. After all, I'll never be able to come back to the time when I was 35 weeks pregnant with my first baby ever again. So... I went and bought plaster strips and Ryan and I made a mold of my torso.

I want to share that this is a long process that involves various steps to be carefully completed to get a good end result. But this process was INCREDIBLE to experience. There was a definite feeling of vulnerability as I lay on the floor still as I could while Ryan applied the strips. And, there was a deep level of trust and intimacy there too. With the plaster strips you have to carefully address the crevices of a person's skin or lose the honest silhouette. The strips are dipped in warm water, laid down, and smoothed out. The warmth of the water felt wonderful and I felt cared for and attended to as Ryan took time to decide where and how to place each piece, gently smoothing the strips. I realized there would have been no one else I could have possibly done this with. I also thought about clients I have had in the past and how because of the ways that they have been touched wrongly when in that kind of vulnerable state with those they should have been able to trust that they have been robbed of the opportunity to know what it feels like to be cared for in such a way. The vulnerability would be too dangerous, in some of their minds would pose a literal threat to their survival.

As I tried to lay as still as possible, I was also aware of the baby's movement inside of me. I could feel him move, but couldn't see the ripples that I normally see in my skin because of the hardening plaster. I almost felt panicked... thinking get this thing off of me, I don't want another barrier between me and him. I gained an awareness that though there is skin between myself and him, that there is still a deeper connection in being able to see my belly move as a result of him twisting and turning. The plaster ended up showing me that I can touch him in some way, but also emphasized the barrier that I feel too.

There is so much more that was a part of this experience. I don't feel I have the room or the words to fully explain what it was like. Ryan and I plan to do a small series of the castings in the time I have left being pregnant so I'll try to add more to the descriptions then. But here's some pictures of the piece with 3 layers of acrylic and gesso, which I applied in the studio later in the day.

Rip, Paint, Play...

Yeah for another studio day! When I came into class today I wanted to work with the painting some more. I had chosen to leave it at the studio instead of taking it home the last time I worked on it (usually it hangs on my fridge in between classes). Oddly, it seemed that because of this I couldn't work on the piece. There was a large disconnect that I couldn't get over and once again I had to leave it and go to something else.

I found some cardboard pieces in the hallway and immediately scooped them up to use. My process began by tearing away the smooth top layer to the cardboard to reveal the bumpy surface underneath. However, I left some of the tattered pieces on it to give depth and because I loved how the grains of the paper felt when ripped.
I then decided to paint the piece with a mixture of gold and white paint to emphasize the parts of the original top paper that remained. I continued to work with the textures and depth that could be created using different paint colors. I added tissue paper with glossy gel medium and then proceeded to rip holes in those parts and put them in different areas. During the process I felt that I was playing, like I did as a child making mud pies in the yard. What will happen if I add this? What about this... I was completely lost in the wonder of the "I wonder" world. How often do we do this as adults!?!? So often we are calculated and plan things. It was wonderfully freeing to just PLAY.

The last thing that I did was to add crays pas to the piece. I wanted to be able to feel the different parts of it, to really get to know what was in the deepest crevices. So I would color on it and then use my finger to smear the oil into the folds. Again I found that there was this desire for touch. To truly know the piece, not jut to superficially look at it and touch it with a brush... I wanted to feel it in my hands. The final piece of what resulted looked a great deal like the other texturized piece I completed. The color scheme was very similar as was the effect of the tissue paper layering. Still I find a fascination with this emphasis I seem to be placing on touch and the pull I feel towards work that I can engage with in this way vs. the other painting. It makes me wonder if part of my frustration with the other piece is that it is about this baby that I still can not yet touch... food for thought!

Gallery Visit & Painting...

We had a wonderful opportunity today to visit an art show on SIUE's campus. The show was a compilation of undergraduate students' work. What we saw was really impressive and engaging work. I found that I was drawn mostly to the ceramic pieces, which were vessel forms. I connected to them on a deeper level because of the way they could be viewed, both inside and out. I had an epiphany about this as I wrote my reflection on the walk. I have been feeling lately that I want to know what the baby growing inside of me looks like, and what his world looks like from the inside. There is a curiosity about it and a certain level of excitement and anxiousness to see just what's been cookin' in there for so long. Ok, it may not be that long... but it feels like an eternity, trust me. The pieces I viewed sometimes offered a sneak peak inside (if I stood on my tip toes) but other times were closed by a lid. I had to fight the temptation to remove the cover and look at what was inside. And, I was captivated by a piece that was made up of numerous little vessels suspended from the ceiling upside down. Here I got to see what I was wanting so badly to see in the others.

Upon getting back to the studio, I once again had a desire to work on the watercolor painting that has been in process from the onset of this class. I worked to create the background of the piece. Perhaps this is what I can know for now... what the outside looks like.

Revisiting...

During today's class we got to have studio time again. I had planned on working on the painting I started because I keep having the feeling that I should be done with it already. Sometimes I feel I'm working at a snail's pace and should have more to show for the hours of work I have put into a piece. It's a bit frustrating at times, but I know that I am fully invested in the time that I am given to work.

Anyway, I did not end up working on the painting because when I would go to do something with it, I didn't feel as though I really knew what was supposed to be done to it. I thought it would be better then to leave it sit. As some of our readings have pointed out, a period of incubation can be necessary. So, instead I worked with the brown paper piece I had manipulated before. As I looked at it, I noticed cracks and crevices that I wanted to emphasize. It looked to me like a map that had numerous paths that could be explored. I used black ink to pull out those areas and create connections between one part and another. I found that if certain places weren't connected that I couldn't sit with the piece. I had to change it, form bridges or it wouldn't be quite right.
As I worked, I began to see other parts of the image that needed to be added, that begged to be brought forward. The result was three large swirls and ink splatters. The swirls weave in and out of the different colors of the piece creating a layered effect. This is something that I do in my work quite a bit. I love the look of depth and of there possibly being more if you could peel back one part. To me it makes me want to look further, to wonder what would be uncovered if I could be so small as to walk around on or in my pieces.

I wasn't sure upon leaving the class that what was there looked right. It didn't look balanced to me it seemed there should be something else. However, after hanging it up at home and sitting with it, it does feel complete.

I also liked how this piece photographed on our hardwood floors :)