Virginia Mallon / Fat Canary Journal

My goal is to excavate the psychological undercurrents of our time, exploring the many faces of social trauma.

 

Much of my work was created from the trenches, a place I believe is the best vantage point to witness the powers shaping our world. The reality is, my creative vocation as an artist was coupled with the need for a day job. This reality labeled me as a sell-out, not a "real" artist, transforming  me instead into a peon, office dog, secretary... In addition, this exposed me to the relentless grind of the rat race in New York City.

 

From a bank teller to a secretary, a shoe salesman to a sandwich maker, I've worked in law, finance, and non-profits, rubbing shoulders with moguls, monsters, misers, and wannabe-saints. This wasn't a distraction; it was my education. It was from this belly of the beast that I gathered the notes and inspiration for my work. I've been a spy in plain sight, witnessing the powers shaping our world firsthand. I create art that reflects on what it's like to be invisible because I, too, have been invisible. I am drawn to every woman because I am every woman. I focus on the dangers that lurk around every corner because I have witnessed them firsthand. In this new and monstrous age, protest is not just warranted; it is our only hope for survival.

 

My art is not created in a vacuum; it is a direct product of a lifetime spent observing, enduring, and fighting back. It is a testament to the truth I've found.  Some might call my artistic drive a compulsion, but I see it as a calling, a vocation. My spirit animal is a banshee keening in the darkness. If someone hears and connects with my work, I'm glad, because we all should be keening; our world is under attack.  In this new and monstrous age, triggers are everywhere. Protest is not just warranted; it's our only hope for survival.

 

I've been told that I should lighten up.  This is not a muse for real art. Politics is not pretty on a woman, especially of the feminist variety. Meek is my best option.  This is an attitude that grows daily within the conservative, and sadly even art, arena.   This has never been an option for me.  I make the art I must make. Tell the stories I need to tell.  I feel that it is because I have lived this dual lifestyle that I well am equipped, especially today, to make significant contributions.   

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I will end this statement with the text from a blogpost written in 2013 about a series called Washed in on the Salt.  

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Washed in on the Salt is a project whose catalyst was a hurricane that struck the east coast of the United States and New York City. In the aftermath of the storm, while walking on the beach near my home, I discovered an array of personal possessions washed in on the salt.   Photographing, painting, and reconstructing this strange assembly of lost and found items became a personal way of coming to terms with my own vulnerability to unexpected, catastrophic events, with a natural progression on how others deal with, and protect themselves from loss. 

 

As the project grew, patterns began to emerge, not only on what is taken away, but also on what is discarded, tossed aside, and thrown out, without the conscious awareness that out actually is a place. In focusing on  found objects via reclaimed art it looks at the tethering of our lives to possessions and the wonton collection of objects. 

Phase III addresses personal loss through sacrifice. This chapter of the project was completed at an artist residency at Arte Studio Ginstrelle in Assisi, Italy - a place renowned for sacrifice of both saints and ordinary men.  Inspiration is taken from the words of the city's patron saint,  Saint Francis, “It is not about what is lost, but what is found at the core of our being that gives our life value.”  Here, the theme progresses toward the tangible and symbolic elements of sacrifice - voluntary, emotional and physical loss balanced against fundamental values. It will also look at what is gained from loss, be it spiritual, philosophical, emotional or material.

 

The last phase of Washed in on the Salt explores, in mixed media, loss and regret.  Images of biblical and mythological women are balanced against their current day counterparts.  It examines historic regret against contemporary.  The first in this series takes inspiration from Lot's Wife, in particular from the Houseman poem:
 

"Half-way, for one commandment broken,

The woman made her endless halt,

And she today a glittering token,

Stands in the wilderness of salt.

Behind, the vats of judgement brewing

Thundered, and thick the brimstone snowed;

He to the hill of his undoing

Pursued this road."

~ Alfred Edward Housman ~ 

 

WASHED IN ON THE SALT

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You can become a pilgrim and not even know it. You can lose your religion, or find peace, in the blink of an eye.  You can have it all but live without joy.   Then there is sacrifice.

The third phase of Washed in on the Salt is about sacrifice, and what is gained from loss. When I set out to investigate images for this theme I thought that the most logical course of action would be to speak to those who have dedicated their lives to God, others, or something greater than themselves. I thought I would ask them "why?" Why did you chose this life for yourself? What have you gained in the sacrifice of luxuries, time, health, and staples of contemporary society. That was the plan, to ask questions, and translate their  answers to image. 

What happened instead, whether it was an act of God, fate or just the logical progression of events my questions were turned inwards instead. Finally, at Arte Studio Ginestrelle, in the company of other artists, folks cut from the same cloth, members of the same "tribe", I was reminded of my own sacrifice - as an artist - in a world that places little or no value on an artistic life. You may try to argue that statement, but really, I think you may be thinking of "celebrity" artists - the 1% who dance in the media spotlight. Then there is the rest of us.

We live under the radar, many times without compensation for efforts or accolades for what we are trying to accomplish. And that's all right. Most of us have accepted this fact of life and carry on anyway. That is our sacrifice.  The one we make every day, while  continuing our own artistic pilgrimage.  The gains far outweigh the loss. Of course there is always a glimmer of hope that a financial coupe will occur, but mostly the act of creation continues in a different realm of the mind and soul. Occasionally, like on my pilgrimage in Assisi, we find more than creative inspiration, we find a little bit of god, working in and through our hands.  It is about reaching through the thin space between heaven and earth and touching the divine. 

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