I have created artwork for as long as I can remember, but I'm not sure that it necessarily was meaningful to myself or that it came from with in. This semester has really got me thinking about my artwork and the meaning behind what I do. I usually have something that just strikes me and I want to create it, whether it be for my house as decoration or something that just inspires me to create for someone that I love or something that someone has paid me to create.
Until 2009 and the piece above was created.
Let me start from the beginning... In May of 2006, I met my son's father, he was the father of one of my former students, in fact I had taught both of his children and did not know it. Anyway we started dating and after about 6 months his true colors had started to come out. I was starting to see what others had warned me about, but wasn't sure what to do. So I had decided to write him a letter and I packed my stuff to leave. He convinced me to stay, saying he would change, so of course thinking of the kids decided to stay. Things changed for a few months and then the rage and anger, yelling, screaming, calling of names, slamming of whatever could be slammed, slammed, the manipulation all began once again. By this time it was June of 2007, I desperately needed a break and left for 2 weeks trying to figure things out. I went to an Art workshop at SFA and visited my parents and my sister. When I returned I decided it was time to leave, I just needed to figure out how I was going to do this, and then I found out I was pregnant with my son. This made things 2000 times worse. At this point he did not speak to me for 2 weeks, not one word. When he finally did, he told me he wanted me to have an abortion. This was NOT going to happen! So for the next year we lived in the same house as complete strangers and things were worse then ever. I had a very hard pregnancy, high blood pressure that put me on half days bed rest, and he didn't care, he expected me to still do everything I did, still called me names and belittled me. His kids turned on me, life was hell. I hated who I had become, this bitter, angry, unhappy person, I gained a lot of weight and was just miserable. Due to my body not handling the pregnancy well I had to be induced 2 weeks early to avoid stroke, preeclampsia among other issues. March 17, 2008 my beautiful, amazing lil man was born, weighing 6 lbs, 6 oz, 19 inches long. My life was forever changed! It became my sole duty to protect my son as well as myself from all the abuse and issues in our home. Things progressively got worse and worse, before I new it, it was Thanksgiving, we traveled to my parents home in Austin and the final straw was pulled. He cussed me out in front of my parents.
This day was the turning point in my life. I asked my parents to help me get out. We began planning. We knew I had to stay through the rest of the school year for money purposes and to not break my contract. At this point I started standing up for myself to him and his kids. I started working out and getting stronger mentally and physically. I started an "Avon" business to save money in a separate account so he would not be suspicious, I packed things when everyone was out and put them in a storage building. June 6, 2009, my parents came to my house for my son's, brother's graduation. At this point we fabricated a story about me and my son Carson, staying at my parents home for 2 weeks to help my mom with some remodeling. I literally packed all of my son's belongings right in front of him as well as the majority of my clothes. That following Monday morning June 9,2009
, my son's father left for work, as soon as he was gone, my parents and I started packing everything throwing whatever we could in boxes, my dad went to get the u haul, and we crammed everything we could possibly cram in the u haul and the back of my suburban. Many things were left behind, material things that can be replaced. The hardest day of my life.
From this point on the recovery started. I joined a domestic violence group and I sought personal counseling. Fear had taken control, my son's father had threatened repeatedly he would take my son and I would never see him again. Every corner, every turn, every time I saw a vehicle resembling his fathers I panicked! Fear became me for several months, until I realized that just like everything else his father did, the one thing he did do was never follow through with his threats. I started seeing a counselor Jennifer, every other week and at some times every week. In August, I lost my insurance. I was devastated I would not be able to continue my therapy, Jennifer knowing this, gave me the greatest gift, she gave me 3 months pro bono sessions, twice a month. I was overcome with gratitude and relief. She told me I had come so far in such a short amount of time, she could not just stop our sessions. I was eternally grateful. I wanted to repay her in creating artwork for her office, but being a professional they can not exchange anything as payment for work. So instead she proposed for me to create a piece of artwork that would help me aide me in my recovery process. WOW! What a thought how in the world was I going to do this. So I decided I wanted to do a triptych, the first section showing where I used to be, where I came from. The second showing my recovery process, going through the steps to get myself better. And the final section showing my future and where I wanted to be.
Now where to start. I did a watercolor wash over the entire paper, and then it sat there for quite a while, while I started to figure out how to represent my life of being bound, and abused and hated and feeling of worthlessness to getting better and finally loving myself when I, at that time did not truly love myself. I was truly broken inside.
