Updated: Oct 13, 2021
The seventh deck
As some of you who have been following along for a while may know, my mother has had to jump her own hurtles with health. These experiences have a way of engraining empathy into your daily life. Watching a loved one bounce around through the medical system from doc to doc.
Some caring and, some not so much. Not knowing if the one who isn't as invested will miss something, something that could be fatal. No fault of their own I'm sure, they've got hard jobs. And now more than ever are more under appreciated, disrespected and disregarded. See, there it is. The empathy kicking in. She has inspired a lot of my work, and even laid a helping hand with this project though she never knew it.
Collecting dust in my tiny office, this blank deck sat since the chaos of the covid pandemic began in early March 2020. No inspiration, no desire to create a physical piece of work (iPad/Apple Pencil was all consuming for a while there)... and then nearly two years later.. I needed to make something. I had no reason to put it off. I am able. I am capable. My body works. My hands work. My brain works. I have a voice and a vision and I need to use it. While it's here with me.Because it's always fleeting. When you watch someone you love with your entire heart slowly deteriorate in front of you.... there is no greater pain or inspiration.
At what we thought was the height of the pandemic, when she thought she would soon be returning to work with the kids at her local Boys & Girls club, she made me some solar prints. She didn't think much of them at the time. She threw them outside, sent them to me in the mail. I thanked her and put them in safe keeping.
Almost a year later and a complete surprise to my mom, her solar prints were the first pieces of this collage I laid down, and they were the focal point all the other pieces came to mould themselves around.
She will always help me make art, even if she's not giving me tangible materials.
Being a severely immunocompromised individual she has been home from work for almost two years now, and sees almost only my dad on a daily basis. I wanted to make her feel like she was a part of this, too. She always will be.
This deck is dedicated to moms. Because we wouldn't be here without 'em.
Photo above is of my Mum, Karen, and me, at Mt. Baker Ski Area, 1994.
I love working with boarding for breast cancer. I always have. My grandma Sally is a breast cancer survivor, and so many other women close to me have dealt intimately with this disease. This one just hits home for me, in so many ways.
Snowboarding has been my outlet since the moment I figured out how to connect my S turns. The cure for my depression before I sought out professional help. Given the seasonality of the sport, you can imagine why I began picking up other similarly shaped sliding tools.
Their survivorship programs bring a little light into the lives that need it. To feel some of that warmth, serenity and synchronicity that comes from riding in nature. Whatever I can do to support that, I will sure as heck try. And hopefully with your help, we can make waves that are felt by those in need.
Thank you for supporting my journey as an independent artist. It's not an easy road but it's the only one for me.