For this series I interviewed five artists: a philosopher, a female artist, a landscape architect and two jazz musicians (together). This is how I identify them in the simplest terms although each one of their identities is multifaceted and ever changing, as I soon discovered.
Growing up, I was extremely shy. Every move I made, and every word spoken was carefully calculated. Yet, I was even judged for what I did not say and labeled the quiet girl. This identification became crippling until I found a means of communicating without saying a word and so I became the quiet, artistic girl. If I couldn’t speak for myself, my art would speak for me. The pressure lay in my ability to create something accepted as impressive by my peers.
In Creative Conversations: Ephemeral Identity, I challenged myself to reach out to people and engage in conversation which meant speaking unfiltered in the moment. Instead of using art as a means of communication, I made art the motive for communication.
The conversations were an opportunity for each person to share their stories and talk openly about their passions. I recorded each interview and took notes on large sheets of paper to collect my thoughts on the discussions. I sat and flipped through old books and magazines with my notes as a guide for finding metaphors that represented poignant conversations with each artist. As I struggled to place each collage component, thoughts turned into revelations. Art became a way to think, a philosophical exercise instead of a means of communication.
After I finished all the interviews, I realized the notes I had been taking were a representation of my own artistic process and a reflection of my own shifting identity. Every person is a collage; gathering connections like a bricoleur looking through discarded objects to find something old and make it new again.
I struggled to glue down each component of the collage because there was a sadness to finalizing each piece. The investigation and the inherent ephemerality of identity died. These montages become a snapshot of an identity frozen in time. I discovered nothing can ever fully represent the fluid identity of a human.