3. A Question in Letter Form
Darby Asked, “In your current exhibit, there is a small wooden box with rings in the epoxy. What is its significance and the reason it is included in the exhibit? This leads to the greater question. How did you determine what would be included and excluded in this particular show, based on your theme. When you were creating pieces for this show, was there an intent from the beginning for each piece that it would be included. When it was a piece for grief, did it bring reliving the grief and/or healing to create it? Is there a theme in mind when you begin on a piece? (Oh, I am going to have a show on the theme of _______and this will be a part of the theme.)”
Dear Darby,
Thank you for such thoughtful questions. There are a few "heavy” questions, so let’s see if I can break it down a bit.
As you may suspect, everything in the exhibit has a rhyme and a reason, the small wooden box of rings is no different. Tucked inside that box is a written phrase: “You said doubt kills relationships.” epoxied in place, spelled out in beads, is the response: “You were right.” Inside are broken mirrors and the rings purchased as wedding bands. The mirrors represent the realization that the fracture wasn't one-sided; we both handed out pain in ways we promised we never would. I originally made this box to hold those rings after my divorce, but I found myself using its shape as a motif throughout the show. You see this story through the now wilted wedding bouquet & the last set I was given, the fresh flowers from opening night that gradually wilted as the exhibit went on. You see a similar story in the mirrors set on the same wall in both the Love and Grief rooms. Everything has a deeper, intentional motive. My hope is that these vignettes make people stop and reflect on their own lives.
How I chose what to include: Because I knew I was working toward this show for the last year, I viewed almost everything I created through themes lens. However, the real challenge was deciding which older pieces from my archives belonged. I selected each piece based on the deeper history of time that went with the painting itself. For example, in the Grief room, the Medusa piece has the eyes of my grandmother, and Kintsugi was painted after a devastating point in my life. It was also important to include pieces from my early days of painting to give a glimpse into my beginnings.
Some of these older works represent moments from the past eight years others give a glimpse to a much longer story. While they weren’t "technically" made for this show, bringing them in added a rich texture to my story. Every piece is a moment locked between brushstrokes and woven canvas.
The intent behind the Grief Room: In this space, a few older pieces simply "felt right," like Medusa and Human Destruction. The other three pieces on the wall were created while I was actively weaving through grief: one immediately following the dissolve of my marriage, one during a period of deep inner discovery, and one during therapy-induced realizations.
The center of the room holds a piece titled “Acceptance.” Some viewers have seen themselves in a casket there; others see only the deep pain in her eyes. For me, I entered that piece with the concept of opening my chest cavity and reaching inside to look closer at the acceptance of grief, the realization that life can never be what it once was, and that even through immense pain, there can be a beautiful uncovering.
Ultimately, for this show, I simply created. I knew I wanted specific textures and fixtures in each room, but the pieces themselves were born organically. The placement and the "theme" came later, as the work told me where it needed to live.
Keep growing my friend. Breathe. You are worthy of the life you dream of.
I love you,
Jazzmyn Benitez
