I am a neuro spicy girl who feels very deeply, wears my heart on my sleeve and over analyses everything. I’m healing and unlearning a lot of societal conditioning and expectations and trying to set a good example for my kids (particularly my daughter when it comes to expectations on women). I have written many cathartic poems around this topic, but a line in recent poem I wrote about the “lies I tell my daughter” really stuck with me; “I am not weight worth in gold”.
Although writing poems on this subject was cathartic enough, I decided I wanted to take myself out of my comfort zone and be a little more vulnerable with my art. And maybe, someone who sees this will relate and it will help them in some small way to not feel alone and open up the healing conversation.
Artworks 1,2 & 3
Three women with this message across them, together the words NOT MY WORTH highlighted, representing the overarching theme of beauty standards so deeply engrained in so many women. So much so, that some of us are inadvertently taught that is where our worth lies.
Artwork 4
Fantasy Map titled “Land of Lack” with places named after lines in the poem. Representing the contradiction between the lies I tell myself and my daughter verses my real feelings towards myself that I am slowly unlearning.
Artwork 5
The fore mentioned poem.
I couldn’t fit the entire poem on the canvas. See full poem video here.
8 weeeks
personal project
outside my comfort zone
If you would like to talk about it. I’m here.
Acrylic and House Paint on Canvas + Matt Sealant Spray.
When it comes to personal projects, I leave everything until the last minute, my perfectionism makes it hard to start my ideas until I’m forced, AKA; a deadline. With this particular self made deadline I didn’t take getting the flu into consideration so the map is late for a very important date!. It’s a key part of this project so I will bringing it with me to my Family and Friends opening night on 8th August.
This poem was homework for the performance poem component of a fantastic 6 week course I took, run by the wonderful Bella Abraham called the ‘Poets Portal’.
I performed this poem for the class. I have removed some lines to fit it on the canvas. but the full poem is below.
Watch me read the full poem here.
Yes. Enquiries Here.
Oh, to have those neurotic hours back… Serving my stomach relentless scrutiny.
I love it.
The lie I tell myself… and my daughter.
The crepey, crevicey, miniature mountains of scars and skin. Loosely lazing on pale pink rivers of disgust.
Beauty in its own right.
I lie and tell her I love it.
it’s not the way I see it through my conditioned gaze that I love. It’s the gift it gave me her and him.
This vessel gives me movement, embrace and breath.
It’s the story that I cling to. The lie I tell myself.
But I want this to be true for her We live to express, not impress.
My subconscious defies me daily….
Don’t let her see how I’m Checking, and checking, and checking… to be sure others won’t judge.
I lie I say I change my clothes because I’m uncomfortable. I hope she cannot see I’m hiding…
Hiding the emotionally unbearable Under the physically unwearable.
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Around and around and around I go in a spiral of frustration Constantly fighting myself.
Can she see through the lie, The lie that I love the way it feels.
I will create a new truth for her, with my lie. Maybe I was fighting compliments before I even knew why
There was no expectations to do well in any other way than be pretty in pink, or prevail to shrink.
I am NOT …my weight worth in gold.
We are NOT. Traits like these don’t define us. Any of us.
We’ll look in the mirror together…
I’ll see flaws, she’ll see quirks I’ll see wrinkles she’ll see crinkly cute I’ll attempt to look my best… SHE WILL express her divine self
She can be whoever she wants Without a front.
She is strong, wise and bold. She won’t let them silence her Her mistakes won’t define her, nor will her scars.
I USED to want those neurotic hours back, but maybe …all that time wasn’t a waste, as now, she won’t have to.
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