I reached out to a local gallery in May of this year to do a show in December. I had no idea what I wanted to do at the exact time of booking the space, but I had been wanting to do another exhibition since the first one I held back in 2019. A lot has happened since then. A lot has happened in the last three or four months, in fact - so much so that the original ideas I had for this show were completely repurposed to tell a different story. I channeled all of my heartbreak and grief and frustration into this show, and I don't know how or what I would've to process those big feelings otherwise. So shoutout to my higher self for giving me the desire to have this art show at this particular point in my life. The timing of the universe is truly divine.
To be fair, I didn't stray to far from my initial concept which was a reflection on my mental health journey and perspective of self. Some names that I toyed around with a few months back included "Center of Attention", "Stuck in the Middle" and "Everybody Hates Me". Bleak-sounding, I know, but it wasn't intended to be all depressing - I seldom create without an uplifting nugget of hope interwoven somewhere therein (no matter how small). I've struggled a lot with my anxiety this year and feelings of confusion, stagnation and of being stuck. I couldn't figure out where that was coming from or how to get rid of that feeling if it was coming from within. I tried to manage it and I tried to release it. But that feeling of dread, that sense of impending doom just wouldn't leave no matter how much I sought to reassure myself and seek reassurance from others. I kept sinking.
And then came loss - the bottoming out, the dreaded Tower moment (for those of you familiar with Tarot or the major arcana). Along with it came clarity, I guess. I took the opportunity to rise begrudgingly, I must admit. Because I didn't want to admit that what was taken from me was holding me back in some way. I still believe there exists a timeline where it all could exist harmoniously and happily - and I am happy for the version of myself that resides in that dimension, but that's not where I'm conscious unfortunately.
Something that has struck me since has been the way that I've been processing emotions and what I've actually been experiencing. The answer is everything - not so much all at once, but the rapidly cycling and bleeding into and overlapping off emotions has left me absolutely exhausted because of the speed my brain has been operating at. Unforced. I'm not looking for solutions or trying to repress or get rid of anything. For a while, I was looking for answers and understanding to soothe my shock and confusion, but still, there is no singular, clear reason (at least from my perspective) as to why this has happened in this way. I have resigned myself to trust the universe, and just focus on what is in front of me right now. One step at a time.
"Rollercoaster." is just that - the story of my grieving process and the realizations of self and of relationships and of life that I have reached as I've gone/am going through it. Ups and downs on repeat. Ebbs and flows indefinitely. The universe striving for balance and for reclamation where there has been sustained excess or lack. And I am along for the ride - perpetually just trying my best.
Here's the event description from the exhibition opening:
A constant of life is change. Perhaps that is all that we can be certain of in this life, that and the passing of time. What goes up must most certainly come down, but aren't we also equally blessed that once we hit rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up.
"Rollercoaster." is a display of emotion through poetry and watercolor - two mediums that have served me well in conveying the chaos and calm that comes with feeling everything all at once and slowly trying to make sense of it all. It is introspection - glimpse at the eternity contained within one's internal reality.
I hope you catch a glimpse of yourself.
Love,
Jillian
To be fair, I didn't stray to far from my initial concept which was a reflection on my mental health journey and perspective of self. Some names that I toyed around with a few months back included "Center of Attention", "Stuck in the Middle" and "Everybody Hates Me". Bleak-sounding, I know, but it wasn't intended to be all depressing - I seldom create without an uplifting nugget of hope interwoven somewhere therein (no matter how small). I've struggled a lot with my anxiety this year and feelings of confusion, stagnation and of being stuck. I couldn't figure out where that was coming from or how to get rid of that feeling if it was coming from within. I tried to manage it and I tried to release it. But that feeling of dread, that sense of impending doom just wouldn't leave no matter how much I sought to reassure myself and seek reassurance from others. I kept sinking.
And then came loss - the bottoming out, the dreaded Tower moment (for those of you familiar with Tarot or the major arcana). Along with it came clarity, I guess. I took the opportunity to rise begrudgingly, I must admit. Because I didn't want to admit that what was taken from me was holding me back in some way. I still believe there exists a timeline where it all could exist harmoniously and happily - and I am happy for the version of myself that resides in that dimension, but that's not where I'm conscious unfortunately.
Something that has struck me since has been the way that I've been processing emotions and what I've actually been experiencing. The answer is everything - not so much all at once, but the rapidly cycling and bleeding into and overlapping off emotions has left me absolutely exhausted because of the speed my brain has been operating at. Unforced. I'm not looking for solutions or trying to repress or get rid of anything. For a while, I was looking for answers and understanding to soothe my shock and confusion, but still, there is no singular, clear reason (at least from my perspective) as to why this has happened in this way. I have resigned myself to trust the universe, and just focus on what is in front of me right now. One step at a time.
"Rollercoaster." is just that - the story of my grieving process and the realizations of self and of relationships and of life that I have reached as I've gone/am going through it. Ups and downs on repeat. Ebbs and flows indefinitely. The universe striving for balance and for reclamation where there has been sustained excess or lack. And I am along for the ride - perpetually just trying my best.
Here's the event description from the exhibition opening:
A constant of life is change. Perhaps that is all that we can be certain of in this life, that and the passing of time. What goes up must most certainly come down, but aren't we also equally blessed that once we hit rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up.
"Rollercoaster." is a display of emotion through poetry and watercolor - two mediums that have served me well in conveying the chaos and calm that comes with feeling everything all at once and slowly trying to make sense of it all. It is introspection - glimpse at the eternity contained within one's internal reality.
I hope you catch a glimpse of yourself.
Love,
Jillian
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