I was putting out some of my non-tire tubular work out in my studio for tomorrow’s empty BOX fund raising event and I realized I have a series of emotional self portraits spanning five years.

2005, Paris, France
a pivotal time in my shift from designer to artist, from invisible to visible, from voiceless to finding my voice. I began allowing myself to experience my emotions and stopped my Vulcan practices.

~9’x 3′ grease pencil and acrylic on fabric

2006, CSAW, Houston
I made the full shift over to artist with the help of my former husband. “if you’re going to be an artist, do so professionally.” okay then. it was like finally stepping into my own skin, being an artist was like coming home to who i was created to be. I joined a collective for my studio space to try and prevent to much isolation. Unlike my previous jobs, i would simply have no contact with others if I didn’t intentionally join a group, no bumping into people at a water cooler or grabbing a bit to eat with a coworker friends. Without a group, I would be fully alone for 8-12 hours a day, that seemed unhealthy. So the collective became important ti me. And i needed my tribe more than ever. Even with being a part, most my work time is in an alone contemplative state. That works, but it means my time with others is incredible important and I needed that time and I needed the contact.

~4′ x 7′ grease pencil, charcoal, and acrylic on cardboard (my table saw box)

2008, BOX 13 artSpace, Houston
A hand full of us began BOX 13 artspace–a very good thing but stressful since my strengths are not in business. Though my alone time for art making was good, it magnified my relational needs. So this weird thing of simultaneously becoming at peace and comfortable with who I am and my relational world imploding occurred.

~3′ x 6′ grease pencil, charcoal, gauche, and acrylic on packing paper (my tablesaw box)

2010, I-park, East Haddam, CT
And as my success as artist takes off, the world which was incredibly important to me exploded and is no longer accessible to me. Some blamed the art thinking it took me to a dark place, but I don’t believe that to be so. The art uncovered things I struggle with but didn’t want to face, it uncovered my needs I cognitively refused to acknowledge. It uncovered and exacerbated unworked through areas of life. It has been very messy and heart rending. I hope I survive to see who I am as I work through all this. I know I will but some days are much harder than others.

~5′ x 7′ grease pencil, charcoal, tape, and acrylic on packing paper

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