Motherhood is often romanticized when in reality it is a varied experience. My feelings of inadequacy are a daily reminder of this. The ultimate form of creation is the attachment of caring for a child inside you and then expelling them from your body. The act of keeping them alive, bonding with them, and having them lay limp in your arms is surrounded by the anxiety of "am I enjoying this?".
Imperfect plaster and cheese cloth busts were cast from mothers' bodies to focus on the complex realities instead of the idealized ones we think others want to see. The rough sculptures and graffitied photographs of my children push past one-dimension thinking and present a new and authentic understanding of motherhood while expressing my experience with pregnancy and postpartum.
My children have figuratively found their way into my studio, and my growing relationship with them has evolved by comparing that love to my mother's maternal affection.
Imperfect plaster and cheese cloth busts were cast from mothers' bodies to focus on the complex realities instead of the idealized ones we think others want to see. The rough sculptures and graffitied photographs of my children push past one-dimension thinking and present a new and authentic understanding of motherhood while expressing my experience with pregnancy and postpartum.
My children have figuratively found their way into my studio, and my growing relationship with them has evolved by comparing that love to my mother's maternal affection.