01 July 2016

Somnium for Sarah: Communicating through the Unconscious Mind

Sleep. For weeks on end, my best friend got plenty of sleep. She was in an induced coma following a freak accident. Anyone who knows my friend knows that she is the queen of bizarre and vivid dreams. She has written about them often and in explicit detail. 

Each of those initial days following the accident, when we didn't know if she was going to live, when we all would flinch at the notion or sight of death's door, felt like an eternity. After the shock and grief subsided, I was nothing. I had no one nearby to turn to, due to various circumstances. It was all I could do not to become unhinged. For the first time in the 18 years that I had known her, I couldn't pick up the phone and call her. I couldn't hear the soothing voice of my wise Leo friend. I couldn't begin to imagine the dreams she was having while in a coma. When I realized that she couldn't simply wake up from any of the dreams she was having, feelings of uselessness began to set in. I sought ways to tap into her unconscious mind to communicate with her. Then one day in mid-November 2015, I decided it was time to turn to art and music for guidance. 

With the album Sleep by composer Max Richter playing as inspiration, the muses guided my hands while creating this piece, so much so that I feel it is more their piece than mine. This piece is also a bit of an anomaly for me, in that I created it all within the span of a day. I began by painting areas with watercolor and applying alcohol for added intrigue. Then, taking a cue from my previous piece, I applied artists' tape to conceal stripes within the areas of different color. From there, with acrylic paint mixed with water in spray bottles, I painted over everything. First I applied white paint. Then I added pieces of white lace paper to use as a makeshift stencil when applying the pale yellow color. Interestingly enough, when I removed the lace paper after applying the second round of acrylic paint, pieces of it adhered to the painting. My initial response was panic and frustration, but as I looked at it, I realized that it gave an added feeling of softness, of dreaminess, almost like faint clouds. For that reason, I decided to leave those pieces of it on and chalked it up to being a "happy accident". 

With each musical note and with each brushstroke, I begged the universe to intercept her flashbacks of the accident and bring them to me. In return, I would give her

"Somnium for Sarah"
Featured in this post: Somnium for Sarah 
All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art AmericaThank you for your time and your support.