2016 Solo Exhibition, Stick Guns and Monkey Trees,
UnionKnott Gallery Portland,Oregon
Artist Statement
Raised by Hippies, I was late to the game of stick gun. In fact, it was only a few years ago on a hike thru a burned out forest, that I noticed that some sticks make the shape of a gun. As I picked one off the trail and held it appropriately while making the whiz of a bullet sound; there for the first time in my long, long life I found myself enjoying the joys of "stick gun". I thought, "I totally get it." After that it became an obsessive find for me, the stick gun. Not all sticks are guns. What makes a stick gun is how nicely it fits in your hand and how perfect the angle is. If it has a nub in the right spot, bonus! I suddenly felt bad for all those kids who were told to "put that stick down!" I wanted to open a store in which I sold barrels of sticks and if some kids saw them as guns, that wasn't my fault. Some kids see them as a 7. Now I have an almost 4 year old and the world continues to be an extremely violent place, in which people try to shame and change the world with lethal weapons. Not stick guns but high-powered automatic weapons that kill and I have to explore the connection between stick gun and gun, gun. And I have. My kid goes to a school where chasing with sticks happens on the playground and the word "gun" is tossed around. What I have realized is that early on in life stick gun is a way to delve into the world of death, and killing and figure what it is, where the boundaries are and why? Why is killing bad? What is permanent about death and is death permanent? When one is running around chasing their friends with glee, how is that bad? "Keep the sticks pointed up" the teachers say. " Don't point them at anybody!" and I have to say this is great advice for all the humans. Monkey Trees play a similar role in my life. I love how they look but they have also taught me a way to play out acceptable violence aka ruff housing. In my 20's riding bikes around Portland with my friends, I was taught the game "Monkey Tree." It is a play on Slug Bug. Spy the tree first, call it out "MONKEY TREE!!!" and slug your friend. Gently, on the shoulder, knuckles in. For me it's a game of being alert and ready with a roving eye. Like I said I was raised a hippie (and an only child) so I came to ruff play late. And I like it. But I like that there are rules and boundaries. I like a healthy way to release all that builds up in there. As I collect these sticks (and in my house they are called "sticks with the shape I like," not stick guns) my son asked me "Mama, when did you first decide to have an art show to show your sticks?" That, my friend, is a good question that has an answer. I first decided to have an art show to have the indulgent joy of looking at them on a white wall as art, to funnel my obsession and share it and to find a stopping point in the endless noticing of the STICK GUN on every sidewalk, beach and dirt road.
