More than anything in the world I want to sing to you. More than anything in the world I want to sing to you. Untitled 1999
[Image Description: Color photograph of the surface of water, rippling. Two leafs float on the surface, in the foreground.]
More than anything in the world I want to sing to you. Traveling with the fear of water is the fear of falling. My suitcase is a full carry on. The flight I’m waiting for? First name. My father’s last was Sailors. His red Irish hair waves goodbye. The fact I’ll know him. Push off shore. Gather than hold movement by circling. Float. Swim. No. Could you be your own Lazarus? A scrolling parchment forever meeting itself? Every form, your most immediate effort? The nomadic shape of your breast? The flight I’ll board is late I’m afraid. I sit in a chair welded to others. We shift our weight. We share the news in silence. More than anything in the world I want to sing to you. Hold the curve surely with difficult breathing. I’m suffering a very person. Adorned with perhaps a pair of seashell earrings, perhaps pierced ones. I re-think my itinerary. I press my face on one side of a thin slice of glass and all the air in the sky on the other, Float! Swim! No. Museum of countless palpitations, swelling fruit forming a nest, pressing a mosque, An upside down cup begging Christ, A breast between limits. My breath sweats while I sleep through yet another dream. Your car keys forgotten on the dresser. Inside a carryon, bloodred Irish hair, heaving clouds. This name that speaks like a brass belt buckle, This name that knifes a fish clean. This name, his name, that swims the distance in me. More than anything in the world I want to sing to you. 2005
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Passage PASSAGE Being with my father when he passed away, making the transition that we all will experience, changed me and my art in unexpected ways. There is a real, physical, painful awareness that starts to bleed into a more surreal, nebulous, and non-linear state of being. [Image Description: Abstract watercolor on off-white fiber paper, depicting a nebulous wispy floating wash, in pink, brown, and grey with a touch of light blue, crosses downward from left to right. A thin vein of bright opaque crimson in the center.] There is a visceral pain of flesh and blood. There is also a strange type of joy as the rush of love and memories fills the soul which now has these massive voids to fill. The passage of time is inevitable and this brings both an immense grief and a sort of cautious optimism. This newfound duality is unsettling but the feeling of submitting to the inevitable is oddly relieving. [Image Description: Abstract watercolor on fiber paper, depicting a glowing pale yellow figure in the center, surrounded by a nebulous, brownish yellow wash, surrounded again by a deeper coloured, web-like pattern of red, cobalt, black and purple wash, with a system of cobalt tentacle-like, or root-like arms, which seem to be glowing with the same pale yellow, reaching out to the edge of the image, in all directions.] It has been a great challenge to try to capture and process this new state of being, but I am compelled to continue letting my intuition, as well as the paint and brush guide my hand in translating the images in my head and in my heart. My artwork before this experience was more literal, more illustrative. [Image Description: Abstract watercolor on fiber paper, depicting a plum coloured wash frame, which graduates as an ombre effect to luminous ochre and yellow, toward the center. A pale, glowing human figure stands at the center. My goal was to recreate that which was physically visible, the way I saw it. Holding my dad’s hand while he transitioned, feeling his body cool down, exhaling so much that I could literally feel the emptiness in my chest. Now that I have spent days and days in this more ethereal and spiritual space, my work tends to grasp for the images that solely represent feelings, thoughts, and sights seen by the heart, not the eyes. [Image Description: Silhouette of a figure, depicted in black, facing a white or very pale purple light, in the center of a tunnel. The walls of the tunnel graduate towards the edges in a wavy ombre effect, from center light to darker purple and finally blue, with wave-like drawn details in black ink.] The void where my heart should be, where his love filled my heart. Only, then to inhale and feel that his love had not gone anywhere, but is still indeed all around. Empty to full, and back again, as I breathed each breath and my father no longer did. It is a cloud of memories that lingers around my head and is punctuated with jolts of love and painful reality. This is my process that continues. Passage 2017
The Space Lady, a mood-setter and guide for this series: The Space Lady - Synthesize Me "I started these drawings in September 2017. The fires in the (Columbia) Gorge had happened. The Eclipse had happened. Summer was fading away and fall was just beginning. I always get melancholy during this time in the season but this particular point in time I felt a heaviness and darkness along side it. I discovered The Space Lady around this time too." Sickly 2017
[Image Description: Direct-address image of torso of a femme figure, depicted in charcoal, and shades of grey. The figure is facing the viewer, and sticking out their tongue. Light, long hair blowing or floating to the viewer's right. Dark shirt or blouse. Their eyes gaze rather blankly forward, with thick eyelashes. ]
"She's a musician, mainly playing covers, but has her own songs as well. She plays keyboards with lots of reverb, echoes, distortion and sings softly and beautifully. She claims to have had an other worldly experience with aliens when she was put under during a hospital visit." Stuck 2017
[Image Description: Direct-address image of torso of a femme figure, depicted in charcoal, and shades of grey. The figure is facing the viewer, with closed, downturned, painted mouth. Dark, curly or wavy hair. Striped shirt. Their eyes gaze rather blankly forward. ]
"I mention her because I listened to her obsessively while creating this body of work. I feel as though she guided me and set the mood for the series. I also got to see her play the day I drew the first 'Icon'. I told her that this drawing was a direct result of listening to her music and thanked her." Stoned 2017
[Image Description: Direct-address image of head of a femme figure, depicted in charcoal, and shades of grey. The figure is facing the viewer, and slightly smiling, showing teeth. Dark, long straight hair. Their eyes gaze rather blankly forward, slightly uneven.]
"I went into my studio to draw because I felt like I needed to get something out. I needed a release. I drew the first 3 drawings, all portraits of no one in particular, all women (?), all looking like snapshots or pictures. I was thinking about different expressions or feelings- expressions that other people make or that I make. Simple enough, and very therapeutic for me." "The second group consists of....I think of them as my own set of Icons or Sensitive Higher Beings. I'm not sure how to title them, still not sure I will."
Icons or Sensitive Higher Beings:
2017
[Image Description: Charcoal image of a femme figure. The figure is facing the viewer, and wearing a long, charcoal/dark grey cloak. The figure's left arm is outstretched to the right edge of the frame, open palm, facing upward, with rays (of energy?) emanating upward. Their eyes gaze rather blankly forward-right. Wide nostrils, indicated by two dark dots. Frizzy, dark hair, blending into the dark cloak. Their mouth is open, and a second mouth is in the center of the forehead, also agape.]
2017
[Image Description: Sanguine or red charcoal image of a femme figure. The figure is facing the viewer, and wearing a long, red cloak, rendered in loose, unfinished marks. The figure's eyes gaze to the figure's left/viewer's right. The hair is depicted as a choppy, straight, cheek-length bob. Their mouth is slightly open, and five thin red lines are drawn downward, from the lower lip to the chin.]
2017
[Image Description: Charcoal image of a femme figure. The figure is facing the viewer, slightly to the figure's right / viewer's left. The figure is wearing a long, charcoal/dark grey cloak, with a tight hood. Their eyes gaze rather blankly upward. Wide nostrils, indicated by two dark dots. Cheeks are depicted as light grey, indicating flushing or blushing. Their mouth is open.]
Empty Planet 2016 New Wound 2015 "And the bits inside the box are remains...are what's cast off when the beings move on." For details about this box, click here. Dust 2015 i’ve been thinking a lot about human relations about the rigidity or fluidity of the boxes we paint ourselves into. i love boxes. there are secrets in them... messages random scraps beads, gum wrappers, images cut from my contact sheets they are dark inside. i tried to make one wet but it rusted so I tried to make another one wet but the wood got swollen i am the wettest box I know. 2006 "I took out the doll, and never saw it again. Yep, it disappeared! I'm sure one of my kittens took it outside and had a blast with it, and maybe one day I will find it (or some telltale pile of sawdust and fabric) under a random bush." For details about this box, click here. Untethered Pearls 2015 "...stood before..the hearth..like a woman..lost..." Baby Bone Box 2015 What You See Is Not What You Get Sticks n Stones Strange Dreams The Butterfly Tree
My Reason
Social-media updates by a mother, while her son is at boot-camp.
"12 more days until I see my son." 12 More Days Until I See My Son 2018
[Image Description: The number 12, built out of small, green plastic toy soldiers, displayed on a wooden background.]
"# More Days Until I See My Son"
# More Days Until I See My Son 2018 *6 more days until I get to see my Son. [Photo credit: Snowzie Roze]
[Image Description: A grid of images that count down from 12 to 1.
"When (my son) was home, he spoiled me quite a bit. (...) He refused to let me pay for any groceries. He wouldn't allow me to pay for our lunch dates. And while he was out with a buddy, instead of buying things for himself, he made just one purchase: a Kittea Tea Infuser...for me. " "Right now, I'm drinking green tea from my Son's favorite mug, a Harry Potter cup that says, "Brave." Right now, I'm thinking of the most selfless, beautiful human being...my boy." "Puffy eyed...this morning was a hard one." "Spending quality time with my goofy Son! He is life!" "Challenge coins, one to display and one to keep near my heart. This is when I started to blubber." Challenge Coins 2018 "My first hug." My first hug, my ugly cry. [Photo by Jason Powell] 2018
[Image Description: A black and white photographic image of two figures, hugging. A young man in enlisted military uniform (Service "C") is pictured hugging his mother. His mother is resting her head against his shoulder. Her face is emotional - what she refers to as "my ugly cry" face. Many figures linger in the background. ]
"My son's much deserved rank." "I got to pet Chesty Puller XIV, the official mascot of the Marine Corps!" "My very first glimpse of my Son after three long months!" "In about an hour, I get to hug my Son, my Marine." "I get to meet my son's drill instructors on Wednesday evening!" "Someone told me that Marine boot camp graduations are really spectacular. I am going to need to waterproof my makeup and clothes because I'm going to be a giant vessel of tears when I see him." "I'm dying to see him. He's on his way for the Warrior Breakfast. I was told he and the other New Marines will probably throw it all up since their bodies have been conditioned to operate with little food." "Just a few minutes ago....my son earned the title, United States Marine." "Tonight....at 2 AM, my son will begin the Crucible. This will be the culminating event that all boot camp recruits will have to endure before earning the title, "US Marine." The challenge is: 54 hours 48 miles 36 warrior stations 29 team building exercises 4-6 hours sleep [total] 2.5 MRE's [meals ready to eat] Today, I manically printed out little posters of my son with his first name, company, and platoon number to which I adhered to all of our candles. I also purchased two LED candles for my son's window sills - to stay lit for the duration of the Crucible. The entire time I was doing all this, I kept repeating to myself, " (My son)'s got this." I will be sending him all of my heart for this grueling journey, and I hope you will do the same....because on Friday, he will be sleep deprived, hungry, mentally & physically spent...BUT he will have earned the title....United States Marine. I can't imagine anything more honorable than that." To Stay Lit For the Duration of the Crucible 2018
[Image Description: A black and white photographic image of two windows, with a black cat in between, facing away from the camera, toward the windows. In the center of the windows are placed photographic images of the author's son, smiling, in street clothes. There are candles placed at the base of each window.]
"Today, my son will experience the "confidence" [gas] chamber....and tonight at 2 AM, he will embark on his final challenge, the Crucible. Keep him in your thoughts. I am so glad he's almost done with boot camp. Jeeeez." "Just got a 60 second phone call from (my son) in boot camp. He greeted me with, "안녕, 엄마 [annyeonghaseyo, Omma]!" That's Korean for 'Hello, momma!' My heart is bursting." "In 6 days, my son will officially be a United States Marine. And in 19 days, I will finally get to hold my son, my new Marine." Cat has been training, at home, inspired by her son. "I am still a weakling and soft in the middle, but I can finally do 2 chin-ups with a light resistance band. It's progression for me because a month ago, the only thing I could do was lift a wine glass to my mouth." A video, documenting herself training at home, that Cat originally uploaded to Facebook. My Reason 2018 "I have just officially bonded with a woman who is an Air Force veteran and mother to a recruit who is also in the same company as my son. I cannot even tell you how much this means to me. A new family member and a friend for life. We are planning a wine night before we get to see our new Marines in San Diego. I felt lonely before, but not as much now. (.....)...you are life. Selfies soon!" "When J heard me mutter, "I miss (my son)," he retorted, "What's new?!"" Doodles in the Letters: Improvised Floofen Stripes 2018
[Image Description: A color photographic cropped image of a piece of lined paper, on a wooden, circular table, with a ball-point pen illustration of a cat. The cat is striped. The tip of a red-colored ball-point pen is entering the image, laying on the paper, from the bottom left hand of the frame.]
"Occasionally, I will doodle in the letters I send to my son. I always use a ballpoint pen...so if I screw up, I have to improvise. With that said...this floofen did not have stripes at first." My Sweet, Little Baby
[Image Description: A color photographic image, a snapshot, of a light-haired infant (around 15 months), facing the camera with a grin. He is wearing a red onesie, with red and white stripes on the collar and wrists. In his right hand (to the viewer's left) he clasps multiple colored markers - pink, red, blue, yellow, brown/tan, and dark green. He has pink marks on his forehead. ]
"I know he's a grown man, now --- but he'll always be my sweet, little baby. Only a month until I see him. My experiences with a son in boot camp are, I'm sure, wildly different than his own. But I think he'll agree, that this journey has been difficult for both of us. I miss him." "After further speculation....I think I found my son. I love him so much!" I Think I Found My Son 2018
[Image Description: A color photographic image of two figures, in camouflage, and protective gear, wearing helmets with wire face guards. The figures faces toward the left. The figure in the foreground has a red helmet on. The figure beside them, to their right, has a blue helmet on. There is a bright red (digitally) hand-drawn circle around the blue helmet, with an arrow pointing toward it. In white, bold text, "I think this is (.....) !!!!" The name has been digitally blurred out with green. ]
"I'm up late and saw that my son's company was featured again on the MRCD Facebook page. I'm always excited when I see Kilo Company 3rd Battalion shots because I desperately want to see his face...but alas, I couldn't find him. *Sigh* I miss my boy." "I got another letter from my son. His first words were: "Dear beloved, amazing, compassionate, all-time super star Momma." Oh my heart....it's spilling all over the place. Today is my favorite." "Another glimpse of Kilo Company, 3rd Battalion performing log drills. This is "team week" and my son and the other recruits are being conditioned to perform as a cohesive unit, not as individuals. I desperately scanned those photos for my son, but could not find him." "There are 91 days in Marine Corp boot camp. My son has been in training for 40 days, which means he has 51 more days left until he graduates. If there was any wish I could ask for, I'd wish for time to fly." "As I was walking to meet my Mother-in-law this afternoon, I was greeted by a very excited stranger. He was across the street, screaming at me, "You fucking Jap! I'm gonna bash your head in with a sledgehammer!" I turned to get a closer look at him while he raged on, "A fucking sledgehammer! Get over here, Jap! I'm gonna kill you!" I waltzed over to the side of the pavement he was on, looked him dead in the eyes and confidently flipped him off. He slithered away after that because....well, you see, I've got the crazy in my eyes too. I'm a mother whose son is in bootcamp, and I'm not as sane as I used to be." "My son is not a Marine yet. He's a recruit - he has to earn the title. And I would like to share the very wise advice dispensed from a woman whose loved one earned the title. She nailed it. I'm not sure I'm ready for all this, but I'm buckling up. "Your RCT [recruit] enlisted, but you were drafted. This is going to be a roller coaster ride like none you’ve ever ridden before, so hold on!"" "Another glimpse into my son's company training: bayonet assault and pugil sticks. Try as I could, I was unable to find Stephen. What I wouldn't do to see my kid." This Is Breath 2018
[Image Description: A close-up color photographic image of a white envelope being pressed to a chest with a hand. ]
"We live in a digital age where constant contact is normal --- bordering on annoying. But since my son left for bootcamp, nearly three weeks ago, he's been off the map. I can't call him, text him, email him. I can't peruse his social media accounts to check up on him. I just have what limited communication is allowed. This is the second time I've heard from him. This is breath." "Jason and I woke up early so we could watch the first sunrise of 2018. It was 31 degrees out, we were shivering as we sat on a park bench - watching the sky slowly catch on fire. It was beautiful, it reminded me of my son." Watching the Sky Slowly Catch on Fire 2018
[Image Description: A color photographic image of a vibrant sunset. The sky is reflected in the rather still waters, below. A dimming blue sky is lit up with bright peach and dark lavender stratus clouds, surrounded by a glow of marigold toward the horizon. ]
"I miss my kid." "Just found out Rosie O'Donnell's son shipped out for bootcamp one week before my son. It moved me because I know what she's going through."
My Son Leaves For Boot Camp:
"Right after my son took his final oath." Right After My Son Took His Final Oath 2017
[Image Description: A close-up black and white photographic image of mother and son, hugging. Both figures face left, his eyes closed, hers open. He is wearing a dark button up shirt, top button open. His mother, has long dark hair, with short, v-shaped bangs. She wears what appears to be a winter coat with a fuzzy collar. ]
Goodbyes 2017
[Image Description: A black and white photographic Cat hugging her son, her back to the viewer, his arm around her back. Figures of two young men in the background, not in focus.]
"Today was a hard day for me. I watched my son take his final oath as an active duty member of the military. I tried not to blubber too much, but I failed miserably. He was, however, surrounded by family and friends - because he is loved - and that is immeasurable to me. J and I stayed for hours, even after all the parents left. I even got to talk to the other recruits going to San Diego. They were all fresh-faced, eager young men. Three of the boys assured me, "Don't worry, we'll take care of him!" I replied, "You promise?!? Because he's my only child!" After that exchange, I experienced the most intense instinct - I wanted to mother them all. [I would also like to give props to J for patiently waiting around with me. I was not an easy person to deal with today.] A few hours later, we followed the shuttle to the airport. I wanted to properly say goodbye to my son. But I also wanted to say goodbye to the other poolees. I barked, "Be safe, boys! Take care of each other!" One of the poolees replied, "We will. We'll see you in three months!" I won't lie, I'm still heart broken. It is not easy to return home to all the emptiness. I'm going to fucking miss my kid. He's my reason. But I am comforted with the knowledge that my son has new family members.....as do I. [I'm going to post some blurry pics I took today. I wasn't trying to get perfect pictures, I was just trying to capture the moment.]" Hugging His Best Friend 2017
[Image Description: A black and white photographic image of Cat's son and his best friend hugging. They are both in silhouette A woman looks on from the right frame, in the background, not in focus.]
The Shuttles Shipping Off The Recruits 2017
[Image Description: A black and white photographic image of two vans, parked in a parking lot.]
"Because life is unpredictable....my son's ship date for bootcamp was changed back to it's original schedule: (.............). So in between my ugly cries, my son has obliged me with his time. I don't need a holiday to consider this the most precious gift." "My son is now older than I was in this pic. Craziness." Now Older Than I Was
[Image Description: A faded colour photographic snapshot of the artist, Cat, with her son as a baby in diapers. They are both waving to the camera. They are standing outside, next to a shrub, in front of a car.]
"My Reason" My Reason 2017
[Image Description: A colour photographic image of a male young adult, wearing black button-up shirt and slack, standing on a beach, facing away from the camera toward the water.]
Strange Sanctuaries
I like to start many new endeavors off with a good bibliomancy. I have a strange and fortuitous configuration in my living situation right now. I live above a puppet studio next door to a house that looks like it could be from Middle Earth, or perhaps a Germanically inspired country hunting lodge in the mountains of Paraguay. Out my door, I walk along a path through a small Japanese garden under a tori gate and down the stairs to the office, where there is an archive of papers from the estate of the late Joseph Campbell. The archive is kept in file folders, much as it was when it was first placed there in the 1980s. Today I opened a random file folder as I often do. Out fell a typed schedule for the International Conference of Transpersonal Psychology in Bifrost, Iceland. I note that the conference begins on the exact day I was born, May 31, 1972. Who attended this conference in 1972? Gene Erdman, Joseph Campbell, Stanley Krippner, Stanislav Grof, Lester Fehmi (one of the pioneers of modern biofeedback) and many others. After finding these notes, I strolled in the neighboring house to share my findings with Robin, who has attended many transpersonal psychology conferences. "Ahh" she said, smiling. "I think that may have been the day that Joan Halifax met Stanislav Grof." These folks in Iceland are beautiful people, elfin, dark eyed, connected to the land. I loved it there! Her eyes glinted. She asks if I can help fold puppet costumes for a moment. The blue cloak for the puppet called "Winter King" has just come out of the dryer. We take the cape, stretch it out evenly and fold it up for storage. Owl cliff house is a strange sanctuary. This afternoon I awoke from a nap after many errands out to prepare for a workshop presenter who is arriving tonight. Opening my eyes, I lay in bed, looking out at the sunshine shimmering through the leaves, the view of the rocky cliffs behind them. I can hear the fountain in the middle of the lake, and behind it, the waterfall. The setting is a dream itself. Some mornings the horses wander below us in the meadow, looking for the sweetest, greenest grass at the edge of the woods. One of our sanctuaries here is the bottom of the waterfall, where, I'm told, visitors from the Caribbean have left offerings of honey and copper pennies. What other shrines have I visited? I've built some. In high school, a deer skull with horns on it came to me from somewhere or other. I had a carved bone or horn crone from Africa that I had found in a thrift shop, and a print of some Egyptian writing. I carved an ankh from wood with my pocket knife in about sixth grade. My love for hieroglyphics led me to astound and annoy my classmates with a made up language called "ltap" in fifth grade. When everyone else was obsessed with whether or not they were wearing Izods or Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, I was furiously copying keys to this new language, so we could all write notes to one another. The alligator and the swan were, I suppose, alchemically significant to my classmates. Who's to judge? Its what they were given to work with. My grandmother's house was a sanctuary. My father's parents are well traveled and for many years lived in a relatively modest home in suburban Philadelphia that felt opulent because of the objects that they had picked up on their journeys. A carved, wooden, two chambered flute from Yugoslavia had a wistful tune. When I was a teenager Grandma and Grandpa went to India and Kashmir and brought back a Tibetan prayer wheel, a soapstone figure of a lady, and a small scrap of yellow silk that was always displayed on their end table. I would feel the silk - it was some of the softest fabric I'd ever felt. Grandma opened the prayer wheel to show me the scrolls inside and then demonstrated the correct way to turn it..clockwise. And then there was the necklace... When I was fourteen my Grandmother and Grandfather were headed of to India and Kashmir. Grandmother called and said "Is there anything you are wishing for?" Skulls. I replied. Something with skulls on it. My mother didn't like it, but my Grandmother understood. So after the journey was done, Grandma sent a book full of pictures and her travel photos. My parents weren't interested. She had taken a photo, near the town of (...), of a lady with a giant bundle of textiles that she was carrying on her back through the passes of the Himalayas. I remember that woman's eyes, the fierceness and the strength, to carry that bundle. Grandma had brought me a necklace of shells made of yak bones. There were bowls at a monastery we visited shaped like shells, too, she said. "But I didn't think we could get them through customs." So I wore the skull necklace to school in suburban Cincinnati. Some of my classmates started the rumor that I was worshipping the devil. I told them the necklace was from my Grandmother. Last year, I packed the last of my belongings into storage, after selling the contents of the house I had lived in for thirteen years. I found the photo of the lady in (...). I put her in a larger box, wrapped in a beautiful scarf. Strange Sanctuaries 2013 |
All dressed up...with nowhere to go.
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