"The Art of Fragility" reflects a perception of my
world since my diagnosis of Multiple
Chemical Sensitivities (MCS), a year and a half ago.
The works show my awakening from the belief that "I" am a solid unchanging
being. Each work is birth and death of how I viewed myself 10 minutes
before. It is not so much about physical fragility as it is about the
mind and the ego's fragility.
MCS is an illusive disorder. It has seeped into every corner of my home
and of my mind's dreams. Complicated ambitions such as traveling to third
world countries to paint the people or the dream of having children have
been let go. And, even simple things, like going on a pizza date with
my husband or going to a friend's house for tea haven't been possible,
in the last year. Every familiar aspect of my life that I have tried to
cling to in order to bring me comfort has been futile as MCS is so prevalent.
But, the joy in this is that I truly "get" that I cannot know what my
life will bring. Every moment of non- grasping brings new awareness of
what is truly happening. I live more presently as I cannot find a foothold
in the future. As a hindsight I see how all this has manifested in my
work.
I used to be consumed with drawing things as they physically appeared
to be. As a trained illustrator, I would start a drawing with a very solid
idea, a representational idea, of what the finished piece would look like.
There was much emphasis on mass and form. This is still apparent in some
of my oils. When I lost the ability to work in oils, due to a severe sensitivity
to linseed oil, it coincided, unintentionally, with a lightening of my
hand, of my technique and of my figures. I no longer feel the compulsion
to foretell what a drawing will look like before it has even been started.
Drawing is happening to me.
The fragile continuous lines in my work reflects my illusive future as
the line meanders and rambles shaping fragmented form at will. There is
just a falling, a trusting that the line will form something recognizable.
My experience is that the line just seems to express what it needs to
about the individual or subject being drawn.
The light washes of watercolor in the figures also show the impermanence
of my experience. Never knowing today if I will be tolerant to my paints,
paper or even brushes, I hurry to get the figures down on paper, out of
my head, my being.
There is a subtle urgency in my technique because I have such love for
painting and sometimes I kid myself by thinking if I can just get one
more painting out into the world it will somehow satiate the blistering
need to create and it will be "ok" to resign myself to the encroaching
MCS.
The subjects that chose me to paint them, are mirrors of myself. I feel
so passionate about painting figures and portraits. I see each person
as doing the best they can with given circumstances and I try to show
that quality in my paintings. Each struggle is so sweet.
I have chosen to use my art as a forum to educate people about MCS because
I am seeing its ever growing affect on the artists' community. Every time
I venture out of my mountain cabin I seem to meet yet another artist who
is affected by their use of chemicals in their passion and their profession.
By raising awareness about the mere existence of this disorder I hope
to encourage artists and the general public to use chemicals in wise ways.
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