I have loved art since pre-school. I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS) when I was 26. Am I a patient with a chronic illness? Yes. Am I an artist who needed a creative outlet to express my emotions? Yes.
From my very first daily injection of Copaxone, I started saving the silver capped caramel colored vials of the medication and the crystal clear vials of saline solution that I had to mix it with. I was determined to make something out of this nightly ordeal. It would be many years before I physically started my art, but it was always on my mind.
The making of my art was cathartic, creative and exhilarating. It was freeing. I had CONTROL, something that over time I have very little of, especially as it relates to my body.
My artistic journey like my physical and emotional journey was not preplanned. It had no context, I had no agenda. My core pieces; “Order”,” Balance”, “Chaos” and “Flowers” were not intended to tell a story. They were simply expressions of emotions or aspirations, snapshots at given points in time. These snapshots captured my need to create structure and predictability (“Order”), my need to find my point of equilibrium both physically and figuratively (“Balance”), my need to learn to cope with the unmanageable (“Chaos”), and my need to learn to accept what I could no longer do and my need to be grateful for what I could do (“Flowers”). Due to the numerous medications and supplements I take to manage my symptoms, I’ve created (“Kaleidoscope”) and (“Bottle Tops”) both pieces allowed me to look at things from different perspectives to find joy and light while navigating the ups and downs of my ever-changing body
Like my MS, these snapshots are not predictable. They are NOT in order. They ebb and they flow.
The only thing that I can control is my outlook and I am committed to keeping my resentments in check and keeping my gratefulness for what I can do at the forefront of my life. I do not take anything for granted.
My journey remains unpredictable, but expressing myself through my art will continue.
From my very first daily injection of Copaxone, I started saving the silver capped caramel colored vials of the medication and the crystal clear vials of saline solution that I had to mix it with. I was determined to make something out of this nightly ordeal. It would be many years before I physically started my art, but it was always on my mind.
The making of my art was cathartic, creative and exhilarating. It was freeing. I had CONTROL, something that over time I have very little of, especially as it relates to my body.
My artistic journey like my physical and emotional journey was not preplanned. It had no context, I had no agenda. My core pieces; “Order”,” Balance”, “Chaos” and “Flowers” were not intended to tell a story. They were simply expressions of emotions or aspirations, snapshots at given points in time. These snapshots captured my need to create structure and predictability (“Order”), my need to find my point of equilibrium both physically and figuratively (“Balance”), my need to learn to cope with the unmanageable (“Chaos”), and my need to learn to accept what I could no longer do and my need to be grateful for what I could do (“Flowers”). Due to the numerous medications and supplements I take to manage my symptoms, I’ve created (“Kaleidoscope”) and (“Bottle Tops”) both pieces allowed me to look at things from different perspectives to find joy and light while navigating the ups and downs of my ever-changing body
Like my MS, these snapshots are not predictable. They are NOT in order. They ebb and they flow.
The only thing that I can control is my outlook and I am committed to keeping my resentments in check and keeping my gratefulness for what I can do at the forefront of my life. I do not take anything for granted.
My journey remains unpredictable, but expressing myself through my art will continue.