confused control

A flutter
a weak hand beckoning
casting around for
everything
damaged and demanding
in its inability to
articulate

A closed mouth,
lips tight against strained teeth
bared only in conflict and combat
but now silent

remorseful

decadance is a deep undertow
rythms softer than our ears
sighs softer that our hearts
pull us along

animal nature is the creeping anger
the crouching words ready to spring
the glove fist paw raised

But silence now and silence is a breath
in the wind
a balm on my burnt
fingertips
a safety.

Silence is my house of cards in the blue blue sky.

conflict continued

More images of the series...

I think that's it now. I have three statuettes altogether, two still in progress, all portraying scenes of domestic conflict.

I went on a meditation retreat recently, and one of the issues that became very clear to me was that I haven't forgiven my ex (the father of my kids) for his violent streak. As long as I'm holding on to anger at him, I'm still giving him some of my power. The anger is so big and so scary, it feels like it will crack me in half. But slowly I'm accessing it and letting it go. Freeing my energy for other things.

The clay work has allowed me to really look at the feelings involved in physical conflict. By shaping the bodies I'm exploring a moment frozen in time. The man stands tense and resolute, fixed in the act of physical domination. The woman writhes, pulls, desperate to escape but at the same time inexplorably bound. Each line of their bodies, each curve of their muscles, reveals to me the moment at which this anger of mine was kindled.

Art as therapy. You gotta love it.

This is a scuplture I'm working on, photographed from a few different angles. I'm doing a series on 'conflict'. It will hopefully be the first of many.