Arcana Ma Series

 

Most of the work in this gallery are a part of my series called Arcana Ma. Arcana meaning mysteries and Ma as in mother: Mysteries of Motherhood. This series addresses the complex nature of the mother-child relationship and my personal struggles with motherhood as an institution within a patriarchal society. While it highlights emotional taboos, it also features the joyous emotional highs that come with being someone's mama.

 

The mother-child relationship is one of the most impactful on human society. Yet, the depth of the mothering role is often diminished and polished for the comfort of the collective. There seems to be an unrealistic expectation that a mother should suppress her needs, wants, and desires for the sake of her family, or better yet, she is a natural nurturer and comes with the biological processes to give endlessly, wanting nothing in return. Joan B. Wolf has called this expectation "total motherhood." With this expectation comes the burden of emotional and invisible labor which, by society's default, falls to the mother. The nourishment that a mother is expected to derive from motherhood is the joy of watching her child grow and change, an opportunity mothers themselves are often denied or punished for. 

Emotional labor: the mental activity required to manage or perform the routine tasks necessary for maintaining relationships and ensuring smooth running of a household or process, typically regarded as an unappreciated or unacknowledged burden borne disproportionately by women.

Invisible labor: a term that comes from a 1987 article about "invisible work" by sociologist Arlene Daniels, refers to unpaid work that goes unnoticed, unacknowledged, and thus, unregulated.

The institution of motherhood erases the identity of the mother. In a patriarchal society, this erasure is upheld in order to keep women disempowered and the wheels turning. Ironically, feminism (and maybe more so individual feminists) has often failed mothers by dismissing, undervaluing and ignoring their collective needs. It is feminist to take on motherhood as an institution supported by the patriarchy, but it is not feminist to devalue the work done in domestic spaces by mothers.

"Institutions are established social mechanisms and significant cultural practices that regulate human behavior according to the needs of a community, not individuals. Thus, motherhood is not simply biological or innate; it is also a social institution that functions ideologically and politically."

This institution of motherhood is one that I have, at many times, struggled with. Being an independent thinker, feminist, an artist and a bit of a free spirit I have often defied authority and contended with institutions. The fight against this cultural erasure of my identity is at the center for me. The title/job consumes everything that makes me a whole human being. I am a mother and that title/duty cannot coexist alongside my ability to be sexual, autonomous, employable, or paid can it?! My wants and desires are selfish if they are not centered solely on my child! I give my child her existence and that alone should be enough to fulfill me! Those narratives are what I choose to actively resist.

Artistic depictions (often by male artists) of the mother-child, though few and far between, are created through a palatable lens that reinforces the nurturing empty vessel the world wants to see mothers fulfill.

 Artists have depicted their own internal/external experiences since the beginning of art, but when women who are mothers do the same they are met with patriarchal dismissal, censorship, and stigmatization. Of course, many of the great male artists had children but they are not faced with the same doubts and stigmas. My roles, as an artist and a mother, are types of labor that are essential to the well-being of humanity yet these roles are each individually underappreciated, underfunded, and undervalued. Every mom is working and that work is invaluable.

My art is a resistance to all I have discussed above. I want my work to highlight the sometimes brutal and painful. I will be honest about my experience with the taboos and institutions of motherhood. Through my work, I make the invisible visible.

 

 

If you have questions or see something you would like to add to your walls, please don't hesitate to send me a message via the contact page. I can always make a custom listing in my shop.

 

Always Lonely, Never Alone | Acrylic, tea, baking paper and thread on paper | 11" × 14" | NFS

This piece speaks to the duality of touch within motherhood, it can be so overwhelming one moment and in the next, it can be one of the most healing and incredible parts of parenting. I am overwhelmed with love for my child yet, the institution of motherhood can hang heavy over me. As a new mother, I wondered when, if ever, I would have my body to myself again- especially during the extended breastfeeding years. I was navigating a sense of loss and a struggle for my own identity. As a stay-at-home mother, I feel deeply the effects of my isolation even when struggling for moments of solitude. Tea, acrylic, thread, and parchment baking paper were used to represent the feeling of being submerged in, yet at odds with, domestic life, the isolation of motherhood, and the intense demands of the mother-child relationship.

 

Difficult Mother  | Acrylic, India ink, graphite, pen and ink handprints on paper | 11" × 14" | $250

To become a mother is to face your deepest, darkest psychological bullshit and to consciously unwind and heal it while being the main caregiver to this tiny being. A mother in the eyes of her child is a great goddess. She is the whole world, your greatest love and life force. She sometimes may also be a snapping, fire-breathing dragon, your greatest fear. I think most parents can identify with feeling rage at times. It's not an easy thing to admit. I have seen how trauma is passed from mother to daughter through the decades, a lineage of pain. It is my job to heal my shadow-self so my daughter does not inherit old wounds. This painting is what came out of knowing that I often fail my daughter and my descendants in my motherhood. It is a symbol of my greatest fear, a reminder of what I do not want to become and to avoid a mother-child relationship defined by its traumas.

 

Winter Blues | acrylic, watercolor, and oil pastel on paper | 9" × 12" | $170

Seasonal depression and isolation get in the way of being present with my child.

 

Suffocation Fatigue | watercolor and acrylic on paper | 11" × 14" | $170

Feeling apathetic and detached, I'm languishing.

 

I'm not Enough | watercolor, acrylic, oil pastel, and pencil on paper |  11" × 14" | $190

Mothers internalize a culture that demands they bear the brunt of caregiving while simultaneously devaluing that labor.

 

I Love You So Much (You're Small Hands on My Face) | India Ink, Colored Pencil, Acrylic, Oil Stick | 9" × 12" | 2021 | $180

This painting is about that intense love, the high you feel in a moment of presence with your child.

 

Barely Here (Feeling Tender) | acrylic, collage, and oil pastel on paper | 9" × 12" | $170

Being highly sensitive, parenting is tough on the emotional and nervous systems. Checking out, numbing, daydreaming, and hiding are not suitable balms. But I find myself relying on them more than I would like. Feeling foggy headed, full of love and guilt.

 

Milk Drunk | India ink on paper | NFS

 

Don't Fuckin' Touch Me | watercolor on paper |  6"×6" | $50

This small work was created from my memory of how I felt during the late stages of pregnancy. Why do strangers feel the need to comment on my growing body inappropriately?! Why do you feel that my round belly gives you the right to reach out and touch me?! Did I relinquish my human right to not be touched by strangers in public spaces?! Am I just a vessel now, an object to be handled?! I wanted to grow an aura of protection around my tired, heavy body. I wanted to be like a cactus and harm those who touched and violated my personal sacred space. 

 

Renewed Self | Acrylic on canvas | 12" × 9" | $180

This piece was made when I was struggling with my postpartum identity. This painting was a way for me to experience the simplicity and stillness of lounging in the sun when in reality, I had just been thrown into a position of never-ending self-sacrifice. It was a way for me to see myself renewed, full of vitality, and basking in sensual free time. 

 

Baptized In Blood | pen and India ink on paper | 11" × 14" | $140

My water birth was a spiritual awakening for me, I was rebirthed alongside my daughter. Etymologically "to bleed" means "to bless". In a water birth, the mother is submerged and blessed by the blood that brings her child into her arms. Baptism is a Christian practice of cleansing a person with water to symbolize a burial of the old life and the resurrection of a new one. A person goes into the water one thing and comes out of it another, much like a mother does after experiencing a waterbirth. The bible teaches that a woman's blood is shameful and that birth is a curse. My use of the word "baptism" in the title is intentional. It is used as a way to reclaim womanhood, blood, and birth, to alchemize the taboo and transform it into what is sacred.

 

Artist Residency In Motherhood // Find it in the Quiet