Self Sculpting

With the depression setting in and couch daze continuing, I have felt the desire to draw and get my hands moving. I have ventured a few nights in the actual studio in the past two weeks which is progress in and of itself and also gotten myself excited to sculpt.

I have been collecting debris from my life over the past three months both from my physical body and my home-making remnants. After being inspired to continue replicating my couch sinking (and tub floating) I decided I could use the collected items mixed into a sculpture of myself. This afternoon, after getting my two bubs to nap, I plaster casted one of my legs. This evening my husband helped me to cast the other leg. Needless to say, I am a miserable model for others!

“Today I finished a drawing, watched fed and played with two bubs, settled them for naps, plastered my leg and arm while watching a Janine Antoni interview, washed up, called my legislators, vacuumed the kitchen/dinning and bath got a full cleaning, resolved multiple would-be fights with little yelling, cooked dinner, read two chapters with #1, plastered second leg, bath, blogged. I’M POOPED!”

The saga will continue once all of my body parts are stitched together and lathered in beeswax.

Getting plastered was not as fun as it sounds, in this situation. As a matter of fact it made me feel very claustrophobic and trapped. The process reminded me of how my depression feels but in a physical way. Depression is an oppressive feeling that has a way of making one feel stuck. Experiencing this in a physical way made me really evaluate how this depression has been affecting me. It felt ironic to purposefully be doing this to myself, yet I had no idea how it would affect me. My anxiety while laying in the plaster to dry shot through the roof. My heart rate raised and I needed to get out as soon as possible! I even needed to get out of the plaster before it fully dried. With adding these experiences to my process it an odd way it felt somehow therapeutic to work through the anxiety. I have yet to finish my arms and face but am not thinking it will any less ridden with angst.

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