When God came to call, a mother only managed to wash half her children and hid the rest. The children bear the burden of the mother’s neglect, the mother’s shame. They are the hidden, the unwashed. They are one part forest with a back splayed open like a dead-tree. Under charcoal skirts, a cow’s tail, at a side glance a cat’s face. Leave her a small offering and your farm won’t burn. I am both the mother and the child. I hide and I hide, as the mask both obscures and reveals.
Featured at Roq La Rue Gallery, Seattle, in "Incantation" January 4- 31, 2015
From the gallery, “Incantation is an exhibition inspired by themes around death, rebirth, winter, and ritual. For centuries, artists have been captured by the seductive mystery of mysticism and the occult. The subject lends itself wholly to the dead of winter – a deeply symbolic time of renewal, introspection, and the first stirrings of life hinting at a far-off spring. As our Northern days still acquiesce to long winter nights, there is yet time for a multitude of rites, incantations, divination, and portends. Throughout these stories the depths of our desire, both beautiful and terrible, manifest.