Grief Scapes 2022-present
My Mum passed from this plane January 4, 2022.
Not only did this uproot my life, but also my entire creative practice, which I suppose is my life…
The thesis I was developing for my MFA final showcase was completely scrapped. It was about healing and building objects of transference and it was something I couldn't make myself return to and continue. I couldn't go back to anything from before.
I could only go forward. (I am really good at going forward),
And so I found myself constructing and pursuing an entirely new body of work to process this new bizarre experience.
Like how do we process grief? How do we even get through it all? Every day, moment to moment… I was absolutely not equipped for this. I don’t think anyone really is. We should probably talk about it more as a society.
A friend noticed that my art making all stems from processing trauma…
I think I waited 7 days… I had been making little photo documentary projects during the time she was in the hospital and spiraling downward in her health. There's ample videos and selfies of me crying or confused. I noticed my memory starting to blank, where prior to all this I was sharp as tack, and prided myself on my mind being able to hold so much information.
And then on the 7th day after she passed, I got out the water colors and got to work. I hadn’t touched them in years. I hadn’t really touched any paint, didn’t consider myself a painter, indeed was frustrated with painting because so many of my cohort were painters and I found it to be so regular and boring.
I had, for a while… I’m not sure how long, this idea to do watercolor projects just simmering at the back edge of my brain. And this was the date that it came to fruition. January 13 2022.
It was interesting because a lot of friends, peers, and professors were just like how are you doing this, meaning continuing on with grad school after this major loss, and shared stories where they were unable to. One professor said that it was a testament to my strength of character that I kept going the next semester, after having extensions from the fall semester. I basically stopped everything around the Thanksgiving weekend holiday from classes and my birthday, which was when she got really sick and went into the hospital.
Going back to the beginning…
And so through this, I photographed what I had and noticed in myself and surroundings. Everything seemed so surreal. I later learned it’s part of your nervous system going bonkers and trying to comprehend this thing that is occurring and compare it to existing neural pathways where it knows this person to be alive and healthy. going back to the beginning. Photography is my base creative medium and I always employ it when going through a major emotional upheaval.
Using the water colors, I started making these series of small images. It was all a one direction, monochromatic, stream of consciousness making fashion. Each day I painted, the images were several in a set I considered a a whole thought. The images, forms, mood, and process I thought of as little “scapes.” They weren’t land or sea or sky- but they were scapes with their own little atmospheres. Trusting the process and regaining familiarity with the use of water colors, I came to several realizations during the meditative nature of making the work. As I continued with this watercolor practice, the prominent colors emerged and the process of tearing down the paper became an integral part of it. The series each started as 22 images, became 24, and is sometimes as many as 27 and 32. Two colors or more are now used, and within 2024-25 I began adding in gold as I meditate on the art of Kintsugi; using gold to fix shattered pottery. The shapes, directionality, and physical process have changed and shifted. They have developed to be what is needed in the making of the work at the moment.
The Grief Scapes have led to other ruminations on grief. It is a diary. And as an artist, I am navigating it the way I know how. This series has led to others in the contemplation of grief, including hand written diary, textile wearable sculpture, and a video diary I keep for nearly every time I cry.
The only way is through.
