painting

ARTIST STATEMENT


     My piece is about how certain life experiences cause a person to change their lifestyle. I am motivated by this topic because I, myself, have gone through a number of lifestyle changes, good and bad. I found it interesting how I needed to have an experience that impacted me so much that I felt I needed to change, like I had no choice. When creating this piece, I decided to use the example of a teenage girl having a child. I felt that at a time in my life where my friends were actually beginning to have children, it would be an example that represented a significant enough lifestyle change. I took a photo of a teenage mother and her child and a Virgin and Child painting, traced them both onto a canvas (with the mother and child as the main focus and the painting as the background), and painted the rest of the canvas. I wanted to somehow represent the magnitude of change that takes place when a teen has a child, which is why I wanted to make my piece reminiscent of famous Virgin and Child paintings from the Renaissance period. This is the reason why I chose to paint. I also made the baby’s clothing purple, to try and reinforce the comparison with Jesus as a child. My intentions were to highlight what this mother must be going through, making such a significant change in her life. Hopefully, by doing this, people will think about their lifestyles, think about what can happen, and decide if that is how they want to live their life. 

 

POEM #1:

 

2.2 MB; 1 min 57 sec.

Flashbacks
Its going to be a good night / I can feel it through my skin/ Shivers run over me / Cause I’m gonna make him love me /Under the florescent light / I paint my cat eyes just right / And stain my lips red / With a sexy gloss / That is who I am / This is who I want to be /

The cold air feels refreshing / As my heels walk on the pavement / As I let myself in the door / The music excites me / And the aroma of smoke and alcohol  / Widen my senses / I can see him standing over by the bottles / With a cup in his hand / Tonight is going to be a good night /  Cause I’m gonna make him love me /

The night goes on / Its hot and hazy with ever sip / Exhilarating freedom. / Exuding confidence / Exactly what he needed to finally come and talk to me / Hi’s turn to What’s Your Name’s / My name turns into some meaningless conversation / I’m not even paying attention to / I notice his skin / How sweet and soft it must be / His voice is hypnotizing / It traps me in a lustful cage / He grabs me by the arm / I don’t know where were going / But I know what were about to do /

Black:  / The last thing I remember seeing. / Stumbling with unzipped jeans, / I find my way around to the bathroom / I pick up my head / I look into the mirror / My lips are swollen and bruised / I notice a dark brown crust along my nostrils / Vomit spills out uncontrollably / Mixing itself with mucus and tears. / I thought everything was going to be ok / Like before, / Buts its not, / Defiantly not.  


POEM #2:

 


1.6 MB; 1 min 24 sec

Reinvention

Time passes / Without warning / And without hesitation. / It comes as a swift wave. / As it goes by, / Everything changes. / Nothing remains as I discovered it to be. / Reinvention / In a continuous cycle. / Nothing shows this more / Than the changes / I’ve made with myself. / I’ve seen my hair change / From natural, to highlights, / From bright colors, to pitch black. / I’ve pierced my own skin. / Sacrifices for expression. / Friends have been made, / And lost, / Then made again. / Laws have been enforced, / Enabling handcuffs to be worn, / Digging, engraving themselves / Deep into my wrists. / Tears have been cried / And blood shed / From confusion / And frustration. / To feel so lost / And search so desperately / To find somewhere to belong, / Something that is mine. /

That is why I went / Down this beaten path. / A path which brought / Wisdom, / But not without compromise. / A path that had been witnessed, / But not resented / Until knowing of each twist / and curve. / It is because of this / That I know what I am not, / And come that much closer / To knowing myself.

 

POEM #3:

 

TBA



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