Mothers Milk, 2016
Nursing my son for three years and four months, I felt a deep connection with him while personally struggling with untreated postpartum. Drowning in my own need for autonomy at times, I begrudged this bond while feeling a constant push and pull to my child. Careworn with new motherhood, from my body I gave ambrosia mixed with joy and guilt. As an artist returning to my studio post-baby I felt it was the first subject I wanted to re-experience and connect to my work. This simple act of nourishment became for me a spiritual meditation while wordlessly passing on a taste of my ancestors, my blood, and my being. Made with a residual supply of breast milk, these milky landscapes both sink and float.