Voice

As an undergrad art major with a drawing specialization, I focused my work on the figure, specifically self-portraiture. To go even further back, while growing up, I took self-portraits with my camera starting at about age six. I have always been interested in the relationship of the outside of my body to the inside. With literal self-portraiture and journal writing, I express myself, and my attempt to get to know myself continues.

Seeing an exhibit I produced in 2011, the women’s work using the female form brought me back to my passion: self-portraiture via photography, now nude; my figure in its literal barest.

I saw an exhibit of Yves Klein’s “Anthropometries” then and was instantly inspired. I loved the idea of women expressing themselves with their bodies so courageously and blatantly, albeit led by a male. After researching body-printing artists, many people have worked to honor Mr. Klein with body-printing of women by men, and even men by women, etc., mostly in monochromatic form as was the original artist’s work.

I explore the use of my own female body via body-prints, using my kid’s tempera-paint as medium (a nod in mind to this role). The process of painting myself by myself is meditating, as I use various colors intuitively and physically stamp myself onto paper or canvas. The brushstrokes reflect expressively and the outcome, recalling the ink-blot images of psychiatry used to inquire into minds of patients.

The result is another form of self-portraiture, closer to center, to the raw form that is the human form, and very personable, as I am doing my own body-print over and over.

The curly-prints from my pubic hair give the image an erotic flair. The white stamped nipples provide a ghostly aura, and the various drips and lines echoes the beautiful in-determinism that is visual art and life.

The quotes transcribed upon some of the body-prints are taken from various interviews I conducted with women for my blog, Les Femmes Folles, about feminism, art, and womanhood. They do not necessarily represent my thoughts but instead represent the continuous voices in life—singularly, valid, and insightful, but altogether somewhat haphazard—that can confuse a woman working to find her own voice.

Erotic and graceful, bold and passive, displaying feminine and masculine qualities, a call to feminist art, a continued search for my voice via self-portraits.

Originally, I had around 30 voice body prints. I have since sold all but two.