Me at Art! Vancouver. Painting: Lluis Garriga Filip |
In May I
was walking down an
aisle of exhibitors at the
Art! Vancouver gala, wearing an
altered wedding gown from my
(dis)robe
series.
All around the skirt, painted arms reach up from the floor to
embrace, protect, or maybe pull the wearer down. That’s me, in this
case: The
wearer. It’s an open-fronted wedding dress, now that I’ve altered
it, and I wore it with a nude body suit, including false pubic hair,
made of a discarded brown wig. Women laughed as I walked along; a
couple of them thanked me, without saying why. And one of these, who
stopped me in my tracks with a desperate-looking smile and wide eyes,
held me tightly by the arm and said, “thank you. Thank you for doing this.
Thank you so much,” as her male companion leered at me, then
squatted down close beside me and tugged at the false pubic hair, his
face only inches from my crotch.
You
know what I did? Nothing. Because really, it wasn’t all that
unexpected. In fact, three different men reached down and handled my
wigged crotch that evening. A multitude more said lude things to me.
And I did nothing about it. Because they were making a point for me,
and their wives were thanking me. Art is always a kind of sacrifice,
and I’d rather be sacrificing myself this way, on stage on my own
terms, than in the countless ways I do when I simply walk down the
street looking female.
My
work is intended to make people think about life – the way we live
it, and the other people we share it with. Everything I create,
whether a very personal abstract painting, an immersive landscape of
people telling stories, or a provocative reclaimed wedding gown, is
an effort to illuminate humanity so that we see each other and the
places we inhabit in new light, with compassion, curiosity, and a
feeling of belonging.