Wild Ribs
[Find the full collection of 16 original pieces of art here.]
I find it hard to talk about myself. That’s probably not true. I actually find it hard to talk about myself for too long. That’s a truer statement.
If we were just a little truer, maybe things would be easier to say to yourself, your friends or to the internet. And if we’re committed to telling the truer story, here it is, but I’m going to keep it short.
It had been a day. You know what I mean. A real hell of a day. And instead of curling up in my favorite blanket and losing myself in reruns of Vanderpump Rules, I tapped into a little art school magic.
I scattered what’s left of my painting supplies on the counter of my new apartment and grabbed the masking tape. I poured interior house paint (left over from the XGolf Mural) across 4 prints I’d made pre-pandemic. Remember pre-pandemic days? Whew.
I grabbed a handful of craft paint bottles, half-full from projects I’d made for the previous apartment, and dripped them onto the paper. I moved the sponge brushes (stockpiled from last year’s school mural) quickly, smearing in some old acrylics. Then I pulled those 4 pieces up and started on the next stack. By the end of the week I had lined the window sills with abstract paintings. Each piece felt like me saying something.
From there I started drawing leaves. I drew the big floppy palms that defy gravity and reach, impossibly, for the sun. Somehow those sheets of green sway and bend and sag, but they keep their shape. The structure keeps them alive. They grow. Their ribs hold them up.
Since 2020, my life (like many of yours) has been chaos.
My body has slouched and slumped and my ribs have tested their boundaries. I’ve seen doctors and physical therapists and chiropractors and all of them say the same thing. It’s the stress that’s making one (or sometimes 4) of these vital, cage-like bones slip out of place.
I’ve had my life upended, moved twice and started over. I’ve watched my heart stretch to the edge of breaking, but marveled at how it kept beating. I’ve learned that structure is empowering and that hope is a practice. I’ve determined what I want more of, what fuels me and worked hard to fill my life with heaps of it.
