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installation
Playhouse is an installation addressing the memories of a world of verbal abuse.
As a child I made cardboard playhouses in my home growing up.
On the end table is a book I created from journaling my abusive relationship.
I would spend several years living in my childhood home being verbally abused by my husband in the same room where I used to play.
In the same room where I grew up I was now playing a different game of house.
I slept on the floor for over a year. The only solitude I could get.
I was berated into working 14 hours a day. Stuck in a trance by the necessity to not dissapoint.
Leaving the house required reinforcement of rules and regulations.
When the exhibit came down I tore all cardboard parts into small pieces. It, like my memories, are still there, but diminished. The artwork above is what I made after moving away from my abuser.
As a child I made cardboard playhouses in my home growing up.
On the end table is a book I created from journaling my abusive relationship.
I would spend several years living in my childhood home being verbally abused by my husband in the same room where I used to play.
In the same room where I grew up I was now playing a different game of house.
I slept on the floor for over a year. The only solitude I could get.
I was berated into working 14 hours a day. Stuck in a trance by the necessity to not dissapoint.
Leaving the house required reinforcement of rules and regulations.
When the exhibit came down I tore all cardboard parts into small pieces. It, like my memories, are still there, but diminished. The artwork above is what I made after moving away from my abuser.
As a child I made cardboard playhouses in my home growing up.
On the end table is a book I created from journaling my abusive relationship.
I would spend several years living in my childhood home being verbally abused by my husband in the same room where I used to play.
In the same room where I grew up I was now playing a different game of house.
I slept on the floor for over a year. The only solitude I could get.
I was berated into working 14 hours a day. Stuck in a trance by the necessity to not dissapoint.
Leaving the house required reinforcement of rules and regulations.
When the exhibit came down I tore all cardboard parts into small pieces. It, like my memories, are still there, but diminished. The artwork above is what I made after moving away from my abuser.
As a child I made cardboard playhouses in my home growing up.
On the end table is a book I created from journaling my abusive relationship.
I would spend several years living in my childhood home being verbally abused by my husband in the same room where I used to play.
In the same room where I grew up I was now playing a different game of house.
I slept on the floor for over a year. The only solitude I could get.
I was berated into working 14 hours a day. Stuck in a trance by the necessity to not dissapoint.
Leaving the house required reinforcement of rules and regulations.
When the exhibit came down I tore all cardboard parts into small pieces. It, like my memories, are still there, but diminished. The artwork above is what I made after moving away from my abuser.
Playhouse, 2024
Mixed Media, cardboard, found objects. 10' x 12'
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