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Of Nettles and Deliverance

III
The Gift of Words

Don't Tell
(detail)

When Lightweavers became The Creative Matrix, the group's focus expanded (as stated on the homepage)
to “thinking in terms of integrated art.” The addition of new non-digital galleries inspired me to experiment with
mixed media.

As an adult, I'd always had a very difficult time looking at any of my childhood photos. The feeling “BAD” child
surfaced the moment I saw one. Dr. Kleinman and I had discussed desensitizing, in a sense, by looking at such
pictures from a more understanding perspective. I had been looking forward to playing with photo transfers and
traditional collage, and I thought it might help ease my discomfort if I were to make a photo transfer using a
picture of myself as a child. When I began playing with the transfer techniques, I looked again at the 5 year old
child, imagining for a moment that she was my daughter. I saw a little girl—a beautiful, trusting little girl.

I searched my mind for words that I associated with the photo transfer, but found I was completely unable to
write out my thoughts. Though I knew everything I was thinking was true, I felt I had no right to express any of it.
In spite of the discomfort, I tried to focus on the feeling hoping to define it to myself in some way. At first, I
could only define it with the one word, “BAD.” Gradually, while working with the piece, it became clear to me
what was behind this fearful feeling. I felt like a child doing something very wrong. What frightened me the most
was that I felt as if I would be punished if I continued. I think this may have been the first time I truly connected
my familiar feelings of fear directly to my childhood. That was a turning point, and I knew I had to continue. I
thought about the many collages I’d seen using typeset word from various sources. Instinctively, I reached for
my old volumes of the Brothers Grimm and Anderson fairy tales.

With the photo transfer set next to me, I began to casually flip through the book letting my eyes fall across the
pages. Words jumped to my attention—specific words and phrases that expressed my feelings for me.

I was surprised to realize that I felt very
comfortable associating the words I found in
my old books with my photo. I began to
understand what a huge role these fairy tales
had played in my life and how strongly I
identified with them. So I tore the words out.

The first words I tore out were “myself
happy.” It didn’t upset me to be tearing apart
the actual pages, partly because they were in
terrible shape (I had literally read the books
to pieces), but more I think because I
recognized the tremendous gift the books
were giving me through those words.
Envisioning the photo, I flipped through the
pages once again. Within seconds I found
“good happy child withered and cast away.”

I never completed this collage, but left it
sitting out on a table with my volumes of
Brothers Grimm and Anderson fairy tales. As
I moved through the months gaining insight
through my therapy and my art, I began to
feel“validated” to tell my story. In time, I
added harsher words and images exploring
my feelings about unanswered questions such
as, “what are you hitting me for?”

Photo transfer of me at 5 years
with sampling of words torn from
Brothers Grimm and Anderson

The next piece in the series was a traditional
collage based upon the digital collage shown at
left. While working on the original digital piece
in late 2004, the work began to speak to me of
the secrets I had kept as a child. I digitally
sketched the figure of a young girl hiding and
scribbled the words “Don’t Tell.” This was the
first time I wrote words on the subject of child
abuse onto a collage. I printed this collage, but
it made me uncomfortable, so I set it aside.

In January 2005, I decided to use the original
digital collage as part of a traditional collage. I
was compelled to make it “more beautiful” and
to adorn it. I pasted it onto layered found
papers, then enlarged the piece with paper I
painted with metallic acrylics and pieces cut
from a second printout of the original version.
I was driven to add shiny iridescent fibers,
bits of fabric and shiny beads that shimmered
in the light. As I worked, I was reminded of
the contradiction between the beautiful
exterior of my childhood home and the ugly
incidents occurring inside. I felt that I was
expressing this contradiction with this
collage—that the piece reflected ugly
truths hidden behind a pretty exterior and
how very difficult it can be to see beyond
“appearances.” I titled the piece Don't Tell.
The completed collage can be seen below.

Don't Tell

When I began my third piece, an assemblage, I still had an overwhelming need to use materials I thought looked
“magical” together. I gathered materials and arranged them in a little pile. I opened an old photo I’d taken of a
Buddha figure, inverting and altering it digitally to give it a softer mythical look. Once I decided to use the
Buddha, the focus of the piece for me became an expression of reality and living in the present moment. Looking
at it helped me become aware of the fear ridden “what ifs” that constantly fought for my attention.

Sun Moon Truth

Contact Meg

Main Website
www.megfoxart.com

About the Artist