Finding Safe-Wildness:

“Attempting the Coyolxauhqui Imperative”

Birch plywood pieces, spray paint, Posca© pens

&

“Eye on the Moon Series”

Wood-block prints on paper, Polaroid© photographs

Creating allows me to move in new ways in addition to fulfilling sensory needs whether it is by moving a brush, ink, or carving tools or by contorting my body to find new angles with my camera. This experimentation provides me the adrenaline rush that comes with not knowing how something is going to turn out, but trying it anyway. This feeling of release is something that I have come to refer to as finding “safe-wildness” (R. Fry, personal communication, November 5, 2023), or finding ways to appease impulses that are not dangerous for mental or physical health. I am interested in how I, and others, experience feelings and emotions and process various mental health issues through the physical acts of creating. I find myself drawn to the idea of incredibly physical art-making (art that requires labor-intensive processes) and why, or how, it is helpful in the release of pent up emotions, impulses and feelings of restlessness.  I often find myself with overwhelming feelings that I am not comfortable verbalizing to myself or others; I struggle with sitting with these feelings, or thoughts or memories. Getting up and physically making something that puts these feelings somewhere outside of my body, helps me process them and to feel more at peace. This realization led me to question in what ways the physical act of art-making helps to alleviate, or process, negative and positive emotions or experiences. I also questioned the ways in which artists use the physicality and materiality of their artmaking practice to communicate various aspects of their mental health with others.

The design painted over the spray-painted wooden boards is a self-portrait featuring parts of my body which have been segmented and scattered. I used bright colors, bold lines and illustrative designs on the large pieces. The contrasting elements of the bright colors and the darker image show the conflicts which go along with many invisible illnesses, and the experience of life in general. The image of the Aztec goddess, Coyolxauhqui, and the concept of the “Coyolxauhqui Imperative” by Gloria Anzaldúa (1990) inspired the design. The imperative discusses the use of a history of violence done to the body, literal and/or figurative, to dis- and re-member scattered pieces in an effort to recreate, or reclaim, our identities. This same image of scattered pieces can refer to the dissociation and disorganization often felt when attempting to focus with ADHD. The woodprints feature an eye, wide-open, and the moon connected by a line which also wraps around the photograph. The background of the print was carved in random, but repetitive, patterns which create a texture with round, droplet shapes. The idea of the moon connects back to the painting, representing myself. The eye symbolizes the new insights gained by the process shown in the photographs it hovers above. The five photographs framed by my prints (my feet on a walk between writing, my lava lamp, my drafting table and my turntable) are all other coping mechanisms for me. 

Reference

Anzaldúa, G. (1990). Mujeres que cuetan vidas: Writing the personal and collective histories of the subject and the problematizing assumptions about autorepresentation in contemporary racial ethnic/other autohistorias-teorías. In Donaldson, C. & Lewis, T. E. (2023). Critical phenomenology as research-creation: A theoretical framework. Journal of Cultural Research in Art Education, (40), 67-81.