When I was in high school, I had a teacher tell me to never attempt to sell my work because it was “too dark and no one would ever want to buy something with that type of story.”
To a high school student, this is terrifying to hear. How can someone who is supposed to be teaching me to make work that others want to buy, be telling me to never sell my work. I learned a lot about what happens to people when someone tells them something that they really do not want to hear, nor hear from that person. My work is dark; it focuses on assault, abuse, neglect, and other topics not really anyone who is “normal” wants to talk about. But something about my work is that it is not meant to be hanging in your living room, or your bedroom, or your bathroom. It is meant to be in a gallery, or a magazine, or an office, to make sure that someone is seeing it, and someone is realizing what they are doing, or what the world is doing is slowing killing someone else. My work is strong, my work shows a valid story, that deserves to be told. The work is never too dark to be sold, or too dark to be shown, artwork is a story, and regardless of the story, it needs to be told. And for all you know, that photo about sexual assault might be something someone wants to hang in their living room. I’d hang it in mine.
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Dear whomever will listen, or M, Monday at 10:27 PM I was informed that someone I once considered a sister to me had killed herself. Feel how you may about suicide, all thoughts are welcome, and regardless of how you feel. I still lost a part of my heart on March 20th, 2017. March 20th 2017 was the biggest slap to my face that I could have ever had. When I was told the news my heart sunk to my toes, my body shook like it was -90 in my bedroom, and I gasped as I tried to get enough air to fill my lungs. Tons of questions flooded my brain, how, why, when, who did she tell, how, what happened, how could this happen? Followed by millions more. These last days have been the hardest days of my life, and all I kept thinking was "when her father asks me at the funeral how am I going to get through this, what will I say?" Or maybe it won't be her father, maybe it will be someone else, a teammate, another coach, a parent. How will I look at a man I consider one of the most influential people in my life and tell him, or someone else I consider family "I don't know how to get through this?" Then I remembered, art. Art has saved me from the worst of the worst in my life. When the shit hit the fan...it was there. It was there to listen, to understand, to love, and never to judge. Art was my shoulder to cry on when I hit rock bottom, it was the one thing I always had, and will always have. People can take away anything, but they can never take away your way of healing, and art is my way of healing. I promised myself a few years ago to never make something, anything, without there being passion and healing behind it. I had witnessed what art could do and how it could heal, and what type of artist was I if I did not use that. What was my art to anyone if there was not a reason, if I was just taking photos to take photos? So when the time came and someone at the funeral asked me before I walked out of the building "Are you going to talk to someone because I'm worried not only about you but about all of the girls?" I was happy to tell them "talking is not how I heal, art is, and I will make something beautiful, and I will make something great, and eventually my heart will heal." To me, this was better than me saying "I go to the doctor tomorrow." Art saved me, and will save me everyday for the rest of my life. I have the ability to show who Makayla was in a way that others cannot. I have a way to honor her life, while healing mine in a way some people do not understand. My heart is heavy with this loss. My heart is broken, and will be for a while. But I cannot wait until I am able to create something(s) in her honor, something I know she would look at and say "it's good...but I could do better." That day is right around the corner, and that day will be a reminder why I do what I do. Rest easy M, I know God took you early so that you could help him keep an eye on all of us down here. Make sure God saves me a spot alright? I'll be up one day to throw the ball around and watch you trip over first base, until then, I'll be thinking of you. Signed, Grace Berg |
AuthorWriting to share my story with you daily. |