FU021 A Spot of Hope by HEH

21" x 29" 

This past spring, I completed my final failed round of IVF (Invitro Fertilization). As I waited to see if the transfer would take, the solar eclipse was disrupting the sky and I had the afternoon off to bask in the darkness. I assembled this piece and exposed it to the fading light, not knowing how the difference in sunlight would impact it-even a slight breeze can change your composition. It felt good to keep busy- assembling this piece gave me tangible anchors for the mix of hope and fear that accompanies every stage of fertility treatments, but especially the ‘two week wait’.

In this piece, I experimented with photo negatives, freshly blooming flowers, paper cuts, syringes, bones and trinkets. As I rinsed it in my rain catchment water, I noticed a copper color I don’t normally get when rinsing with sink water. The other side of the paper had been coated and neglected, passively exposed over time. I noticed bleeds from the other side taking away any chance of a crisp white. It’s clear that the whole thing is over exposed-my rumination on time with the changing light added another layer of fuck up. This piece was not successful but I have tenderness for it now because it is a souvenir of feelings of failure and uncertainty within my own body. Similar to a lack of answers on my fertility journey, it was a mysterious confluence of circumstance that led to this outcome.

With cyanotype and infertility, you have to trust the process- you never know exactly how it’s going to turn out because there are so many hitches where it can get messed up. There are endless possibilities in the wake of tragic loss. 

The opportunity to show this piece is the chance to share my fuck ups, my presumed failure; bodily and artistically- with acceptance. Maybe one day, with pride. 

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Art has never solved my problems, but it is a companion to my sorrow and often leads to unexpected joy. When there is nothing to say and nowhere to go, I can create work that extracts the complicated feelings of what it means to live through late stage capitalism and ever escalating climate disasters. My work serves to chronicle my process of responding to grief, medical trauma, and C-PTSD by creating safe and beautiful spaces that integrate my experiences. Currently, I am working on connecting with other makers to create collaborative work that honors the common thread of our individual heartbreaks- we are not alone in our struggles. Historically, art has been a comfort to me, but a solitary one. Now, I am seeking to share my vulnerability, in process and production, with my community. Politically and personally, this is how I want to push my creativity. I hop around mediums- pen and ink, water color, printmaking, collage, giant puppetry, and most recently, cyanotype.

Contextually, I am a southern queer Jew from a family of artists and Appalachian crafters. This background along with my art history degree from UNC informs my own process by honoring and challenging the recycled imagery of femininity in contemporary art while confronting internalized expectations and norms of gender. I seek to interact with the community through my work/play, hoping to spark connection in the shared experiences of grief, trauma, and making a place for one’s self in a world not fit for us.

You can often find me creating precarious displays at Art Post, your local ‘Diagon Alley of art supplies’, and check out some outdated but hopefully charming work on my ig @h.e.h.a.r.t.

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