Studio Letter No. 004
On Motherhood & Artisthood
This is my fourth studio letter which means it’s officially been a full month of this new ritual of writing to you.
In the past month, it feels as if so many things have expanded; both internally and externally. How has the past month been for you?
One of the largest themes I’ve been navigating this past month is the concept of rest. It’s comical to think that resting is something that exists as a “concept” for so many of us, instead of a non-negotiable practice.
Despite the irony, it is something that I am forcing myself to be reacquainted with, which has brought me so many new ideas. I’ll be honest in saying this has been an especially exhausting month as I’ve navigated finishing and installing my upcoming exhibition, while also managing the phase of life that is parenting a toddler. But in the moments that I have allowed myself to rest, I’ve thought a lot about how rest allows for silence to do it’s job.
Here are a few ideas that silence allowed me to explore this week:
Phoenix running around during the installation of my upcoming show
Motherhood/Artisthood
When a word ends with -hood, you can almost always guarantee it’s referring to a specific experience that often shapes you in a particular way. I’ve decided to begin using the term “artisthood” to describe the ways in which being an artist has/is molding me. I’ve been acquainted with this experience for much longer than I’ve been familiar with motherhood.
Being a mother has pushed me in ways that have felt simultaneously remarkable and unbearable. Being a mother, who is also an artist, has illuminated so many of the things I thought I’d healed from.
I can recall a particular conversation this past winter while I was in New York. I was in the Upper West Side at a party and recall speaking to a writer at the party. She asked me if motherhood had changed anything about my art, and for some dumb reason, I confidently and boldy exclaimed that I went to the studio to have a break from motherhood, not to process it.
It’s hilarious to think I believed this as I look back at the work I’d been making at that time and realize just how much of my work was reflecting how motherhood was making me feel.
I want to be clear, it made me realize how motherhood made me feel, not how having my child made me feel. But the work in question was emotional, consuming, and reflected some of the pure exhaustion I felt.
There are numerous people, including friends, who expressed that they did not believe the work had the same presence as some of my other work. In some ways, I agreed with the analysis. In other ways, the analysis was a reflection of how motherhood was feeling; like everyone is watching you but no one is ever truly aware of what the experience truly feels like for you.
Being a mother is one journey. Being an artist is another journey. Being a mother and an artist it’s own journey as well. Being a mother and an artist who makes her livelihood from her artistry is a journey that both uplifts and restricts itself in so many ways.
I’ve been relatively quiet about my experience of motherhood, but it has changed me in ways that are absolutely permanent. I’ll share more about some of these changes with time, but for now, as I’ve navigated mothering and navigating the responsibilities of an art career…I’ve thought a lot about how these moments will define my child’s understanding of the world. That’s what I was reflecting on when I took the photo above.
For my upcoming show, I’m including the first body of work that has included framing. When I first conceived of the idea for the frames, I knew that it was opening up a new way of exploring materiality. Wood is one of Earth’s gifts that has remained a favorite of mine. The way that wood can be molded, warped, and maintains the imprint of the hands and machines it’s encountered is so fascinating to me.
This new body of work, A Dreaming Hour, includes Oak framing and scalloped edges. The show opens next week, so I will share more of my thoughts about the work once the show is officially opened to the public. In the meantime, the above photo is an image from my studio when the work was getting packed. I’m excited to share more images of the final pieces next week! The full detail shots of the images will be on my website akeabrionne.com so please sign up for that newsletter if you are interested in a more in depth overview of that work.
Though I intended to share more updates about the kitchen, I’ve been in deadline mode which often means I spend considerably less time cooking than when I don’t have an upcoming deadline. Regardless, I did make a few things this week but did not document any of them, but I will be documenting some more cooking soon as I will be starting to try out recipes from my family home in Mississippi. These are recipes handed down from generations and include some of the traditional recipes that my family used for the past few generations in rural Mississippi. I’ll be documenting the journey of attempting to make some of those recipes and how food is one of the best forms of cultural preservation.
Until then, the above image was photographed at one of my favorite local restaurants in Detroit, Coriander. Coriander is a kitchen + farm located in the Jefferson Chalmers neighborhood, and the restaurant is specifically located off of Fox Creek, which feeds out into the Detroit River (and eventually Lake St. Clair) and peers across to Canada. It’s a favorite spot of mine for a reminder of how much beauty can develop from a relationship of presence and gratitude to our food systems, our ecosystems, and our patronage of food practices like this restaurant. I’m excited to share more of my research in the kitchen over the next few weeks.
Music On Repeat This Week
(In No Particular Order):
Cool Cool - Sunset Mix by James Alexander Bright
Trip to Japan by The Shacks
Moon Dweller by Deva Rani
Sunset for the Dead by Tommy Newport
Early Morning Rain by Cleveland Francis
What I’m Reading This Week:
This week, I’ve made more time to read Earth Medicines: Ancestral Wisdom, Healing Recipes, and Wellness Rituals from a Curandera. I’ve had this book for a few years now, but it’s a treasured text that really grounds the relationship between mind and body and the elements of the earth. I love to read it for grounding, but also as a reminder to honor ancestral wisdom in its forms. A curandera is a healer, and I’m always interested in the ways that we can amplify the healing arts as an essential practice for restoring balance to our society. So I try to practice as much as I can, and if you are someone who is open to different forms of practicing creativity, consider exploring how cultivating healing practices can aid in your creative pursuits.
This is a great text to start with, if you are at all open!
That’s all for this week’s studio letter. I hope you’re well and I’m looking forward to writing to you again next week :)
~Akea <3
