Telephone

Do you remember playing "telephone" when you were little? Sitting in a line or circle, someone whispers a word or message in your ear and then you whisper what you thought you heard into the next person's ear. This goes on until you get to the end and the last person says out loud what she thinks she just heard, which is usually quite different from the original message. It is a fun game and entertaining to see how the original message evolves.

I recently played this game again as an adult, only this time I played it with other artists from around the world in an international game of "Telephone" organized by Nathan Langston from Satellite Collective. 

The message started out with the Breton Fisherman's Prayer:  “Oh God, Thy Sea is So Great and My Boat is So Small.” This was sent out to three different artists, then on to other artists until it reached 315 of us from around the world. Each artist only saw the piece before hers and then she rendered what she thought the message was in her own medium: film, sculpture, photography, prose, etc. It is so interesting to follow the different paths from one work to another!

The "telephone line" that I was a part of followed the prayer and then focused primarily on humanity in the form of a woman's body and skulls and in the end offered a sense of hope- or at least that is what I got from the painting before mine!

Have fun following the telephone lines to see what other artists created! Follow this link to Telephone: An International Arts Experiment!

Fulfillment
Size: 12" x 16"
Media: Original digital composition
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Homage

Homage

When I visited St. Margaret’s 12th century chapel in the Edinburgh Castle, it was a sacred place for me. So much so that I came back and visited it a second time. The sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows sending splashes of color on the rough hewn walls. It drew me in and I sat quietly. That was my first introduction to St. Margaret. 

I was so moved by my experience that I opted to visit another place where she had been: the Dunfermline Abbey, which was founded by St. Margaret. It is also where she was buried. I was not surprised that Dunfermline Abbey also felt sacred. 

This piece is created from two different perspectives of the interior of the Dunfermline Abbey Church, with its time-weathered columns and arches seeping with traces from the past.

Size: (h x w) 32" x 24"

Media: Phototransfer and pastels on maple

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Grandeur of Thistles

Grandeur of Thistles

I saw images of thistles frequently while in Scotland, and for good reason-- the thistle is actually the national emblem of Scotland.

I like how this humble, resilient weed is celebrated. In fact, there are many myths and symbols devoted to it. (Google it, it is quite interesting!)

Many stylized depictions of thistles, such as this finial from a railing, serve as a good reminder that the common can be exquisite and the everyday full of grandeur. 

Size: (h x w) 16" x 8"

Media: Phototransfer on maple

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Illumination

Illumination

The sunlight is glaring through a window in the Great Hall of the Edinburgh Castle in Scotland.  I overlaid this with a celtic cross from Iona, allowing the light from the window to illuminate it.

Size: (h x w) 16" x 20"

Media" Digital photography

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Remnant of Devotion

Remnant of Devotion

On the Isle of Iona I searched for the Hill of Angels, a place where St. Columba would go to pray that is now considered sacred. It is easy to miss, you can barely find it on the map. It is just a little hill located inside a fenced-in pasture on someone’s farm. 

I climbed over the fence and headed up the small hill.  I sat in quiet near some stones that had been placed as humble offerings by others who had ventured to this site before me. It felt sacred. 

While sitting on the peaceful little knoll, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Some small sheep were making their way in my direction! They lingered and begged for attention. Oddly enough, this felt like a most appropriate greeting on the Hill of Angels.

Size: (h x w) 10" x 20"

Media: Digital photography

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Shrouded

Shrouded

When I arrived on the Isle of Iona it was blanketed in a hazy fog.  The first place I visited was the Nunnery ruins, which poked mysteriously through the haze making it feel very sacred and still. The haze really heightened my experience of the ruins. I visited again later after the fog had lifted, but it was never quite the same without this shroud of mystery.

Size: (h x w) 20" x 16" framed

Media: Digital photography

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Enchanted

Enchanted

I am not sure I have ever been so surprised by beauty as when I saw this meadow carpeted with millions of purple flowers. It was on the Isle of Mull, in Scotland, and I had just pulled over to wander around an old churchyard in Gruline and was just getting back on the road to keep on schedule when the mass of purple drew me in. I couldn't resist! 

It is the kind of experience where you want to breathe it in deeply and savor it for the future. (Like what we do in Ohio on an unseasonably warm day, when there is still threat of cold and snow). If only we could fully conjure up these moments again so vividly! 

Size: (h x w) 16" x 24"

Media: Digital photography on canvas

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Stirring

Stirring

At the National Museum of Scotland, I was intrigued by a sign about ancient ritual offerings in water that noted: “Watery places were favoured for making offerings.  They were seen as boundaries between the human world and the world of the gods, where contact could be made.”  There is something about water and its glittery, fluid movement that touches my soul deeply. (This may have something to do with the fact that I grew up in the Great Lakes state!)

On the way to catch a car ferry, I took some photos of Lake Lubmaig. The water was so peaceful and quiet. I combined this with a shot of the Iona green marble altar in the Iona Abbey. In this piece, the altar and water fuse into a permeable “watery place”.

Size: (h x w) 20" x 16" framed

Media: Digital photography

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Tangled Memories

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Tangled Memories Sculpture & Detail Photograph

This piece contains images of family photos that have been printed on sheer fabric. I cut them in strips, leaving none of the images intact. These tangles of memories have been placed into a vessel, atrophied and opaque. It is symbolic of Alzheimer's-- a snarl of dead ends and detours within a shrinking vessel of obscurity.

Sculpture

Size: (h x w x d) 6" x 10" x 10"

Media: Fibers

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Framed detail photo

Size: (h x w) 14" x 14"

Media: Digital photograph

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Lost

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Lost

As my Dad lost his memories, he lost some of mine too. After my Mom died it was up to my Dad to help keep our collective family memories alive. But eventually my Dad could no longer access those stories that gave us context and a sense of belonging.

Size: (h x w) 18" x 18"

Media: Digital photograph

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Almost

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Almost

As my Dad was building a birdhouse and he asked me to hand him "that thing you use to pound nails in." My Dad, who had taught me how to use a hammer, could simply not find its name. Yet he had learned how to take the long way of getting there, taking alternate routes through his brain.

This piece is how I envision that experience, those times of knowing what something is but not quite being able to access it. It is like squinting through a haze or taking a long drive through the country. The scenic route.

Size: (h x w) 17" x 21"

Media: Digital photograph

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Archives

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Archives

In Alzheimer's slowly memories can no longer be accessed. It is like there is a padlock on the brain as the memories within begin to deteriorate and the synapses break down like bombed out bridges.

Size: (h x w) 21" x 17"

Media: Digital photography

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Infinite Loop

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Infinite Loop

My Dad used Post-It notes as a coping mechanism when he was still trying to function at work. He would use them to try to remember just about anything, including to check another Post-it note. Conscious of his need for reminders, he wallpapered his office wall and covered his desk and floor with Post-its. He was desperately trying to keep things together, to compensate, to order the confusion. Toward the end of his attempt to maintain his job his writing on the notes did not form coherent words anymore as they morphed into scribbles.

Size: (h x w) 20" x 20"

Media: Digital composition on canvas

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Purpose

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Purpose

After my Dad could no longer work, he still had a desire to be productive, to have a purpose. My sister was creative in coming up with things for him to do. Each day he came over to her house she would fling mulch onto the driveway. He would arrive, show disgust at how such a thing could have happened, and get right to cleaning it up.

She would mix nails and screws together and have him sort them out. He folded clothes again and again and cut pictures from magazines. It did not matter that he repeated these tasks over and over. He did not remember. What mattered was that he took pride in each accomplishment and had a sense of purpose, even if only for a moment. 

When asking my Dad what he had been doing, his standard response was "Oh, thises and thats."

Size: (h x w) 14" x 24"

Media: Digital photograph triptych

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The Fading

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


The Fading

When exactly did the twinkle in his eyes disappear? When did eye contact become non existent? When did he vacate leaving only an empty stare? It is impossible to explain what it feels like to have a loved one not recognize you, to no longer know you. You look closely and wonder if something is still there, was that a flash of recognition? Did he understand? You visit and you carry on one-sided conversations just in case. It is a gesture of love, like visiting a grave.

Size: (h x w) 20" x 16"

Media: Digital photograph

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Earnest

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Earnest

When I was nine I rode my bike down to the cemetery and I picked flowers from other graves to put on my Mom's headstone. It was an act of love.

But somewhere along the way we learn not to pick the pretty flowers.

When my Dad was in his mid-fifties he hitch-hiked and walked to my sister's house. No one knew where he was. Eventually he walked up my sister's driveway with a proud smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers that he had picked from people's yards along the way.

In his mid-fifties he had forgotten not to pick the pretty flowers.

Each experience was fresh and new for my Dad, as if it was the first time he had seen such a sunny day or beautiful flower.

Size: (h x w) 16" x 20"

Media: Digital photograph

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Tribute

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Tribute

My Dad was generous, kind, goofy, sensitive, and strong. He was a devoted Christian and a loving father. He was not perfect, but he was genuine.

In his life, in his descent into Alzheimer’s, and in his death he taught me more than I can ever begin to express. I am still learning from him.  

This piece contains several vantage points of where I grew up, where the best memories of my Dad were formed.

Size: (h x w) 14" x 14"

Media: Digital composition

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Heredity

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Heredity

I inherited a higher probability of getting Alzheimer's from my Dad. His mother had it and out of the four kids in his family, two got Alzheimer's. There are four kids in my family too-- it is impossible not to wonder which of us will get it. I think it will be me.

It is hard not to feel a bit like a time-bomb, with the dread of getting Alzheimer's (or the cancer that took my mother's life at 38). Yet you can't live in fear or you fear to really live.

In this piece there are two staircases to climb. I don't know which one I'm on. One plateaus and one continues on. Regardless of which staircase you or I are on, shouldn't we all be inspired to try to live each day in a meaningful way? Life is a gift.

Size: (h x w) 30" x 20"

Media: Digital composition on canvas

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Remains

A photograph of the Nunnery ruins on the Isle of Iona, in Scotland, is combined with an image of sheep grazing on a nearby hillside. As such, the remains of the nunnery merge with the flock that remains in the pasture offering a reflection on time and place. 

Size: (h x w) 20" x 16"

Media: Digital composition

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Buttressed

This piece contains overlapping images of the flying buttresses of Dunfermline Abbey in Scotland. These exterior elements provide the support for the interior space. To me that is a beautiful, transcendent thought.

Size (h x w): 30" x 20"

Media: Original digital composition on canvas

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