This piece was concieved by the arrival of a poem and a bread board at the same time. The poem is by Emily Dickinson (#377) and can be seen written in graphite on the board. All the found objects nailed on the board represent what we can and cannot hold on to in order to feel safe.
I found this old speaker while I was working on a series of halos. It's shape was so reminiscent of the halos found around the saints heads in Medieval art it was startling. There was some commonality for me between the aura like glow of the halo and the amplification of sound that a speaker offers.
Many of my pieces are about my daughter and our time together as she grew. Cow Soap and Soapy Water were the names of two charaters she created when we played togther with her odd assorment of blocks. I loved the total nonsense of these names and the hours we played their story on the floor of our apartment.
One of the subjects I like to explore in my work is the status of girls and women in our society. I created this piece after hearing a mother say how her daughter was seen by her school as a black sheep. In defense of her daughter the mother said, "She maybe a black sheep, but she is my black sheep". I dedicate this box to all those girls with an aittude who fight against the assigned role of women.
My friend O.C. and Jack Keroauc were the inspiration for this piece. There are two repeating images in each rectangle of the grid; A tatoo on my friends arm of a leopard and a photo of Keroauc's grave. Over each image is some kind of round mechanical fitting. I chose an old draw as the box to hold this piece. I imagined a draw in a desk that hid some secrete of it's owner. Safely stored away but precious to him.
What is the quality of a memory of a person who has died? The relationship with that person becomes like a photo; it captures a moment never changing. We seek to connect and it is all shadows and echoes.
The mandorla is an ancient symbol that first represented the fertility of the Goddess and eventually co-opted by the Christians as a body halo around saints. When I first found this old horse curry brush, I immediatly thought of the mandorla and for me it's connection to the Goddess. It is bejeweled with fake pearls, beads, glitter and gold paint radiating out on wires to the universe.
I had bought at a flea market a box of old family photos. In it were many images of a mother and her young children. I thought they looked like the poses in early christian art, even to the two little girls I cast as angels. I wanted to give this Madonna and child a bright and glittery altar to celebrate their divinity.
In my hunting and gathering for found objects, I came across a woman's appointment calendar from 1957. I was struck by how much of her daily life I was able to glean from her entries. She wrote down every move she made. It was touching. The sacredness of her life was the detail she paid to her family and other domestic work. In some funny way, she was a daily Madonna.
My art comes from a place of deep intuition. To create a piece, I search for images and found objects that represent a mythological understanding of the human condition. The inspiration can come from classic myths, indigenous art or even pop culture. My work juxtaposes the common place with the impossible, creating an active and theatrical production of ideas. They are the poems, daydreams and memories that run through all our lives.
All images on this blog are covered by copyright of Jeanne-Marie Crede. No infringement of this right is allowed.