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Connotations

As parents, we use all our resources to provide for our children. The need to provide the “best” for our children creates a constant tension between the fear of raising children in a bubble and the fear of not providing enough security.

The umbrella forms in this body of work reference limited protection. They are a metaphor for the security we provide our children. I bring to this work my acute sense of responsibility and helplessness as a parent.

 

 

 

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Bed Series

For most people their bed is at the core of their comfort zone. It is a narrow space where we relax, dream and rejuvenate until age or ill-health confines us to that bed. Then, that same space becomes and signifies all our pain and discomfort. And yet through all this anguish the bed represents a sliver of hope and life.
Having spent multiple weeks in hospitals sitting by each of my parent’s side as they battled life and death, I felt just as confined to that bed as they were. In this series of pieces, I have used the bed as a metaphor for the emotional and physical turmoil that I saw and felt at the time. I have tried to transform that turmoil into visual narratives.

 

 

 

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A Puzzle Without Clues

Our homes are private sanctuaries where we have the right to be ourselves. These rights bring their own set of responsibilities. Similarly a relationship between two people affords them opportunities for companionship and love. That relationship also comes with a unique set of expectations. Whether one feels caged in by these feelings or liberated depends on the individuals involved. It is impossible to tell what really happens behind the closed doors.

The birdcage is a metaphor for the duality of confinement and protection versus freedom and independence. These pieces reflect my observations of the relationships around me. Each vignette represents the emotional state of a relationship through the physical state of the home.

I am drawing with glass. Sketching lines in space to create these settings.

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Looking In

“Looking from outside into an open window one never sees as much as when one looks through a closed window. In that black or luminous space life lives, life dreams, life suffers.”

Charles Baudelaire “Windows” 1864

The window to me references home and body. The glass inside is the transparent membrane on which I can portray my introspections on the complex relationships I have with my family and myself.

When I was younger, my mother insisted that I should have a traditional life with family, marriage and motherhood at its core. Then, I thought it would keep me from being the person I wanted to be. But, now, I realize that, what I considered to be an intrusion is also what I value most in life.

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