7.8/6.3 (Apoplectic)

Oil on Canvas, 30x40, 2023

The Five Stages of Grief But We Start at Anger and Work Our Way Backwards (Apoplectic)

Typewritten text on Mulberry Paper, Thread, Fabric, 6.5x8.5, 2023

A piece in two parts, first painting, then book. 7.8/6.3 is a painting in which I freed my mourning and anger following the earthquake in Syria in the winter of 2023, whose frequency makes the title. What more could we possibly be sent to deal with? What more could we take? Instead of dwelling in a numb form of loss, I painted a big, bright red canvas filled with code. Evil eyes are painted along the edges, disembodied hands climb their way up vines as every mark swoops across the canvas. A house burning, a dog howling, eyes looking forward through every opening. Apocalyptic plants grow upon rot, their spindly leaves stretch in blues and greens. There are ghosts. There are blossoms.

Then came the book, The Five Stages of Grief But We Start at Anger and Work Our Way Backwards, a written synthesis of the coming-down from anger, mourning, panic. How do I ground myself? How does time heal all wounds? The veil that sits atop the book averts prying eyes, creating an almost sacred object— a great irony of my discomfort with anger, and the grief underlying it all.