An excerpt from my 2021 MFA application essay: The figures I depict in my paintings are based on pen drawings I sketched in the months after my pregnancy loss in 2014. In these paintings, I explore the experience and transformation of being unmoored by grief and loss through adrogynous femme creatures. The materials I use to convey this include acrylic, watercolor, charcoal, pencil, pen, clay and menstrual blood. At times they appear as femmine monstrosities and alien blue beings while others are living embodiments of the natural world. These figures literally wear their grief and vulnerability in stretchmarked, hairy and nude bodies and in this openness, embrace their near constant state of shock and sadness.

The blue featured in nearly half of my work simultaneously represents sadness and tears from crying as well as the metamorphosis of the figures into rivers and oceans. Many depict the physical act of crying and the toll this kind of grief has on oneself and represents the character of The Grieving Womyn. In the beginning, this figure loses the shape of a person and becomes literal bodies of water while later on, evolves into space aliens, galaxies and hairy femme monsters. In the worst of our grief, we become unrecognizable to ourselves and others. And yet with all of this we are also inevitably growing into new bodies as we change and age. As much as the blue can induce fear of the unknown, it is a safe space, a return to the womb and rebirth. My hope is that these paintings offer a sense of relief to people who see them. 

My artistic practice is an extension of my grieving practice. A major focus of my earlier work explored the concept of the Venus of Willendorf, a small statue carved from limestone during the Paleolithic Period, roughly 28,000-25,000 BCE. At about 4 ½ inches tall, she reads as very round, resting her arms on pillowy breasts with legs that appear to end at the ankles. One of multiple, similar forms of art discovered around the earth, it's likely one of the first sculptures ever created by humans and, ironically, predates the concept of Venus by millennia. Over the years I’ve questioned her identity as more nuanced and complicated than simply a “fertility goddess”. I find that most femme dieties are categorized as such and become stripped of their power and influence only to be dismissed. I wonder, was she floating in water? Was she an elder? Was this a self portrait? To me, she symbolizes an ancient time in our history when human beings revered the feminine, particularly femme elders, without question. I also inferred that she came from a time when pregnancy loss was viewed as a familiar part of the spectrum of pregnancy versus today where a stigma of silence is assumed by the survivor. With these in mind, I made a series of hand held ceramic Venus of Willendorfs which were part self portrait, part creature-femme-monster. These were an early attempt to visualize myself as that ancient revered crone goddess, accepting miscarriage as normal. The first couple of weeks after my miscarriage, I took baths twice a day with a large shell and lit candles helping me to breathe slowly and slow down. It was the only way to stay sane as I grappled with reality, sharing my pain with strangers, sleep deprived, in shock, hoping I could skip these stages of grief that I endured with my father’s death (I could not). I honored myself as that Goddess of Destruction when my own body aborted my 11 week old fetus. According to my OBGYN, he said, “shit happens'' which was the most honest explanation and the one that made the most sense. And so these clay pieces were additional steps to processing these emotions and finding my own way and evolving art practice and style. Each figurine is a little different from the next and were made after my son was born and include a lot of engorged breasts as I struggled with breastfeeding and early parenthood. From these tiny figures, I drew pen portraits and added watercolor. Over time they evolved into my own creator dieties and femme creatures.