A bit redundant, evocative artist. What is the artists job if not to produce emotions that captivate? I was doing a great job with the completion of my book when I ran into a huge writer’s block. Since I never believed in writer’s block, dealing with it was like a non-believer living in a haunted house. No matter what I did, accept it or deny it, it would not go away. For days I stressed. Why was this happening to me?
After speaking with a friend, I slowly began to dig my way out of my writer’s block. First I told him the suspected culprit of my writer’s block. That it was possibly related to a subject I was having doubts about putting in the book. The book is a work of creative non-fiction and although I have already spattered my soul across the Blogosphere there were still things I was afraid to write about. Mainly, I worried about people being judgmental.
Tree in Saguaro, Hayley Rose, Copyright 2005
You too may be like me, a rape survivor, essentially a member of a club that no one ever really plans on joining. As you probably know, this club is not all that elite, as one in every six women has been sexually assaulted. If you’ve successfully survived this ordeal, perhaps you identify with the dictionary’s definition of survivor, one who continues “to function or prosper in spite of opposition, hardship, or setbacks.” For me, this wasn’t always the case.
The dreariness of my high school’s art studio was enhanced by the pea green walls and matching green and white checkered floor tiles, clearly décor left over from the sixties or seventies. Whenever my art teacher was particular back logged, she would torture us with some droning educational video on the life of an artist. Most of the time if she wasn’t looking, we’d sleep through them, taking little interest in art’s making. Most of the artists on these tapes were white men, European or American. Then one day she put in a video about a Mexican woman I’d never heard of: Frida Kalho.