Every work of art has a story behind it. Some begin with the telling of a narrative before the image has been conjured, whereas others evolve from the artistic process itself. Here you have the opportunity to glean insight into the inspiration for a few select works by reading their corresponding narratives and/or poetry, written by the artist herself.
Narratives have also been shared on a corresponding page for works from “Disparate Forces”, an exhibition in October 2014.
Each member of the human race shares a common origin. We are all birthed from the same source. Nature is our mother. And while mother should be revered, loved, and obeyed we have dismissed her. We have shown her naught but the vilest face of apathy, disrespecting and violating her repeatedly over time. We are a virus and we have plagued her. Mother has shown us great patience for all we have done, allowing us to persevere and conquer across her domain. She waited long for the day we repair the damage we’ve done. Yet she won’t wait for long. There is tremendous unseen power in the Earth we call our territory. There are powers we have only glimpsed in summer storms and winter gales. We need a reminder that mother has every right to punish us. After all, she brought us into this world. She can take us out of it. And she will, with the full force of her resources, now made chaotic by the effects of our presence and continued manipulation of her chemistry. Until we make peace with her, that is our fate.
At any given moment she feels blue. Or else she feels the red heat beneath her flesh, indicated only by a pink flush in her cheeks or a quiver in her hand. At any given moment she feels the melancholy push its way in, filling her with its cold weight. Other moments are interrupted by the electric shudder of anxiety, corrupting her body and her thoughts.
At any given moment she may feel the spark of joy, enthusiastic and all too fleeting, teasing her with the promise of fulfillment. She seeks it in phases, even just as a lark, so she can be reminded of the good things; the warm things; those soft warm colors.
Those who assume she always feels darkly, coldly, misunderstand. She feels all things. Often all at once.
At any given moment she has felt beyond the trivialities of living, and so left with the desire to explore dying. The ever present noose cradles under her chin. Most days it’s slack, other days it tightens, offering its promise of respite from reality.
The world at times seems a massive, monstrous thing. She shrinks to nothing against its physical expanse. She is just a shell, another basic beast that walks it.
Yet within herself is a universe that is far more than this world could hold. Her thoughts could encompass it and swallow it whole. Naught but a mouth-full. Then what is left, but the cold empty?
At any given moment she is shattered, but in a constant state of repair. As one piece breaks, another may heal. Time is the most reliable balm; give her some, and she may surprise you.
At any given moment you may presume to know her mind. You may think the solution is so simple as a pill. Don’t see her as a puzzle that needs solving. See her as a complex universe of thought and feeling, and explore her. Follow her stars, show her where they are, and see the colors in her grow warm again.
;
Many are aware of Project Semicolon as a tattoo parlor trend, one that has caught on widely among those who identify with its purpose. It’s message is simple: you have the choice to continue with the story of your life. To expand it, carry on, give it new meaning. You are the author of its narration; only you can determine the direction in which it goes. This symbol, when seen branded on skin, is also a message to let others know that they are not alone; that someone else too knows the burden of depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, or schizophrenia.
Mental illness is far more common than we currently acknowledge. Many of those who suffer its symptoms suffer in silence, aloof as to not be a burden to others. While the succinct phrase “Get help” is so often resorted to in reaction to the discovery of a person with mental illness, sometimes it is far more helpful for them to hear “I understand. You are not alone.” Help is good. Only a few of us are lucky enough to be able to help ourselves. I myself am fortunate to have developed a keen self-awareness, and the outlets that so effectively allow me to filter depression and anxiety and prevent it from taking over my life. But sometimes it takes a helping hand. An ear, some compassion, a kindred spirit. Project Semicolon is an embodiment of this. A way of passing on that message, of bringing light onto an often overshadowed subject.
While I may not be inclined to tattoo the symbol on my body, I have incorporated it in my own way. In “At Any Given Moment” I added it to my own signature, to not only pass on its crucial message, but also to give the story of my life it’s continuation. To offer, if you will, my pledge to persist in the journey that lies ahead of me. I am the author, and painter, of my life. And there are many works yet to come.
Damn you Doktor Zweifel, dear ol’ Doktor Doubt
Damn your creeping craft of culling the crazy in me
Every electric shock that shuts me down and starts me up
I can’t keep up
Damn your efficiency at making me fall
I’m useless now
Damn the rest while we’re at it
Damn this transitory crisis I’m in
Damn this crisis of faith
Damn the stress that bleeds me dry
Damn men for their capacity for killing me
Damn life in its infinite chaos and cruelty
Damn its insistent balancing act
Damn the poisons, the cancers, and the ailments
Damn it all
But mostly damn you Doktor Zweifel, dear ol’ Doktor Doubt
For exposing the nerve
D Branchaud Art 