Thursday, May 23, 2013

"The Delicacy of Dreams" 2013


This piece is an abstract self-portrait. It is also based on a photo I took in Paris. My reflection can be seen in the glass. It is also 50"x42.5".

This is before I added the bubbles. It just seemed a little empty and I thought the bubbles added to the delicate dream-like idea.
This is the photo I used-

I took this photo of a dress I was sure I would wear on my wedding day. I had such an unrealistic, simplistically, beautiful idea of love at the raw age of 15. My artist statement for this piece is in the form of a poem:
A little girl in the backseat of a car-
“Mom, what if I don’t get married?”
The mom smiled at the baby she’d carried,
“Someone will love who you are.”

If only it were that easy…
If only she could be satisfied
If only she could have complied.
But giving in made her queasy.

So she pulled them in
And pushed them away
Only able to love halfway
Discontent in their pin.

A girl strolled down a Parisian street
A shop window held a white dress
Simple elegance free of stress
It matched her dreams pure and sweet

Never been kissed, never been hurt
Never been scarred, never been bruised
She didn’t know she could be used.
Love was only an idea with which to flirt.

“I’ll wear this one day,” she dreamed.
A perfect fairytale played in her head,
Mimicking every book she’d ever read.
Surely love was as pure as it seemed…

That was the first lie she believed,
But not her last time to be deceived.

“You can make him happy again.”
“You don’t need to be loved in return.”
“His lack of interest doesn’t burn.”
“You’re the reason his interest began to wane.”

Her first kiss told her what used meant
She thought she was being selfless
In actuality she was being helpless
To that she would never again consent.

“If I kiss him he won’t love me.”
“He can’t love and want simultaneously.”
“My feelings should be treated extraneously.”
“If I kiss him my obligations are free.”

Her second kiss taught her to disconnect,
Because if she didn’t care,
Then maybe the pain wasn’t there.
All she had to do was be ok with neglect.

“He is my everything.”
“I don’t mind being what he wants.”
“I can ignore what my past haunts.”
“I can spend forever making him king.”

Her third kiss taught her to be more
That she was not made to serve,
 That was not what she wanted to deserve.
And it was not what she was made for.

“He wouldn’t kiss me if he didn’t like me.”
“This must mean something to him.”
“Its ok to kiss on a whim.”
“Surely, this wont leave in my heart debris.”

Her third kiss taught her what emptiness was
The feeling far worse than her ex’s hate
Was to feel like you’re presence was idle prate.
Emptiness is to be unwanted without cause.

So where was her white dress?
Who was going to love what she had become?
Maybe this wasn’t the only song for her to hum…
Maybe there are other ways to success

Maybe love isn’t a dress we put on
Maybe love isn’t always happily ever after
Maybe love is a collection of tears and laughter
Love isn’t something we stumble upon.

Love could be what we choose
Love could be what we see in our reflection
Love could be what we see in a connection
Love happens when we allow our hearts and life to fuse.


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