Time

Lawrence seems to think about time in terms of linear events and intersections.  She looks at the way objects in her life denote points in time, accumulating into a continuum.  Junk mail becomes a unit of measurement

I have always been fascinated by the idea that time is not linear, but perhaps that all points in time and all possible sequences of events are just mashed together 3 dimensionally, or perhaps in some form of dimensionality that we can't fully understand.  I like to think about significant events in time being very "saturated".  If reality is arranged like pages in a book, events that happen can "bleed through", leaving a ghostly impression on the past and the future. 

Personal as Political

Our text describes the personal as political as a movement closely link with feminist ideation, which describes how personal experiences such as gender, race, and sexual orientation have entered into the political and artistic conversation.

I see a distinct correlation between this concept and the ideas behind the witches I am creating. There are certainly feminist issues present, but the witch is also an enigmatic, confusing concept. Culturally and historically speaking, witches, as a group, are poorly understood and underrepresented, especially in western culture. Bringing their struggles to light illuminates how political and cultural attitudes have affected the circumstances independently minded women, minority spiritualists, and indigenous cultures around the world throughout history.

As a female artist, it's difficult to separate the female experience entirely from my work. What other experience do I have? Perhaps that question itself would be an interesting exploration. Artist Nikki Lee, for example, immerses herself in various subcultures, embodies that experience, and then creates Sherman-like self portraits of her new identity and community. (http://www.tonkonow.com/lee.html)

Protest

Protest art is simultaneously the antithesis of propaganda and a form of propaganda in it's own right, depending on how you look at it, and perhaps, what side of the issue you are on. Art often touches on social issues, inequality, and injustice, but in my mind, in order to really qualify as “protest art”, some perpetrator of injustice must be implicated.

The witch series I'm working on, for example, bears themes regarding gender, religious, and culteral inequality, but doesn't really point the finger at any particular purveyor of oppression. In order to do that, I think I would have to take it further somehow and give it a more contemporary context. Perhaps an instillation which juxtaposes images of ordinary women and asks the viewer to somehow label which one is a witch. This kind of thing could be expanded to include a multitude of cultural and ideological labels which dangerously rub shoulders with stereotypes including race, socio-economic status, sexual orientation, subculture, etc. Still, protest art needs to point the finger at someone or something. Maybe that someone is ourselves.

Feedback wanted

A sketch idea for witch number 2.  I don't really know where this is going yet.  I was picturing her a bit like a seductive gypsy draped in jewels, as seduction is the enchanting power that makes all women witches in a way, but maybe she wants to be more tribal.  I'd love to hear some thoughts.  I also included some images I found on the internet that were kind-of guiding my inspiration.

Icon

An icon is a symbolic representation, often imbued with a powerful spiritual or ideological significance. Icons themselves can easily become objects of worship, rivaling, even superseding the immaterial ideal which are meant to represent.

I'm interested in the idea of adding significance to a commonplace object or figure through the process of transformation. When I think of the gilded Byzantine mosaics I'm reminded of the deep and prolonged meditative process involved with such a tedious, but stunning assemblage. I think it might be interesting to take kitschy, mass-produced objects that are not really special in any particular way and elevate them to iconic status by covering them with beads or intricately painted patterns. The same thing might be done with thrift store prints of corny or trite images. For me, it is the process of transformation that makes the finished product a sacred object of reverence.

Concentration #1

Artist Statement

This piece entitled “Consult the Bones” is the first in a series which explores the enigmatic and shape shifting archetype of the witch. Witches, shamans, oracles, and magical healers persist across cultures and throughout human history. They have been venerated, respected, feared, and reviled; unspeakably persecuted and turned to in desperation by those very figures who would otherwise see them burn at the stake. The witch has many faces, but she is consistently one thing – a woman of wisdom, mystery, and power. She is a wild, untameable spirit. She is, irreducibly, a strong woman.

Barefoot, naked, close to the earth, “Bones” peers up unflinchingly at the viewer, but her expression betrays her mistrust. She has secrets we desperately want to know, but she seems ready to flee. Wiley and ageless, she is a fleeting apparition, like a rare animal in the forest who refuses to be caught.

Our relationship to the witch, much like our dynamic with nature, is complex, conflicted, and deeply imbedded in our cultural and biological psyche; a mix of awe, fascination, vulnerability, and a stubborn, sometimes violent defiance of her persistence and power. The more we try to rationalize, reduce, and intellectualize her, the more the spirit of the thing seems to slip through our fingers.

Body as Medium

The use of the body as medium, be it a residual mark or impression of the form or the actual sacrifice of tissues, connotes our human presence, our physical being in a particular time and space. It evokes, almost subconsciously, a visceral connection which transcends time and cultures to touch one of our most basic commonalities - our experience of a physical body.  Bird describes this as a sense of "timeless immediacy" and I'm reminded of the 60's mantra "Be Here Now".  Some years ago, while on an academic trip to Santa Fe, I had the opportunity visit some ancient Native American petrogyphs, so far out in the middle of the desert that no roads go there.  As I stood in front of these ancient markings and traced my hands over the surface of the rocks, I felt a rope being cast across the void of thousands of years of human history.  Some one had stood in this very place, on a day just like that day, and made marks on the rocks.  Our hands were the same size, same shape.  The same sun beat down on their skin.  The same dust blew into their hair and soiled their feet. I thought about all the billions of people who had lived out their lives before me in very different times and places, and yet we share so many of the same sensations; and how those marks made by one person (or a handful perhaps) can reach out across time.  Art that reminds us of the body, of its nature, even in uncomfortable ways, can elicit this kind of profound connection.

As much as body as medium speaks of universal experience and connection, it also speaks of individual identity.  My body is my own and no one else's.  It is the outward and physical manifestation of who I am.  I have often thought of using my own hair as a medium, as it is one of the more distinct features of my appearance and has thus become ingrained with my identity.  In exploring shamanic and magic ritual, it has come to my attention that the use of bodily tissues and excretions has powerful symbolic value.  It binds the practitioner and/or subject of the ritual physically to the intention.  In the same way, an artist binds themselves to the work and its meaning by literally giving themselves to it.  I could see myself incorporating this kind of thing into mixed media work, but admittedly, some of this stuff just gets a little gross, so I would probably be limited to dry, odorless materials like hair, teeth, bones and such.  No blood, or some of the even more unmentionable things that I can think of.

In works of clay, I like to see a little imperfection so that you can still see the impression of the artist's fingers having moved it.  This is something I might like to master, but it involves overcoming a mild case of OCD. Again, I think this elicits a special kind of connection between the artist and viewer, especially when you can feel those impressions with your own fingers on the surface of the work.