I applied for a project today, Landfillart.org, an artist reclamation project. Their main objective is to create art out of rusted metal hubcaps from the 30’s to the 70’s. This project appeals to me on a variety of levels. I love the idea of repurposing, something I do all the time in my life. I like it’s a carry over from my grandparents who did a lot with a little.  I am also particularly sentimental about cars. My application’s in and I am hoping to get accepted. If you’d like to apply, here’s a link.  But even if I don’t get accepted, in the writing of the application a huge lightbulb went off in my head.

Mending. I am mending. On a variety of levels I am engaged in the activity of mending.  It’s particularly appropriate to realize this today given that I have relationships to mend, some of which can’t be achieved, but I am always evolving and adapting to what that means.  I have begun to heal the relationship with my body and it’s perceived “rebellion.” I’m opening to what needs to be addressed and making plans. Mending.

Stitchery No. 1, encaustic, embroidery thread on panel, 12x12

I have been mending in my work all along. I am mending materials together to create a new wholeness. I never connected with this until today. I sew things together, I’ve begun to drill holes and fill them, sew through them. I’m printing, writing, scribbling. I save bits and pieces until just the right time.   I suppose that I’ve been striving to do this throughout my life. I always knew vaguely that I wasn’t really living the life that was expected by many. When I told my grandmother where David and I went on our honeymoon, she said, “well, I guess that’s sure differ’nt.” It’s not that she isn’t proud, I’ve gone on to live a life that in her generation didn’t exist.

I have one foot in the traditional roles of my grandmothers and another foot planted in new possibilities for a woman in my generation. I am still reconciling that, putting two slightly disparate worlds together in every painting. Never too disparate,  I am still walking the line. I live in both worlds simultaneously. I am conscious that I am engaged in the push and pull of expectations, but I have finally connected with the feeling that I am not fighting it, I am mending the gap.  I believe I am about 6-12 months behind my artwork in figuring this out.  This has been coming up in my work, sometimes screaming to be seen, staring me in the face. Well, finally, I’m listening.

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