This is Lindsay. Last winter a couple of girls, maybe 11 years old, were visiting the studio and asked me what her name was. I told them she didn’t have a name. I said that they could name her if they liked. So she’s Lindsay.
She didn’t always have a red face. I painted her and smeared her with plaster. Someone recently referred to it as “warrior paint.” I like that. I didn’t make her hat/wig. I bought it a long time ago at Revolution. I never wear it. It’s itchy. I did make all those necklaces. They are mostly knitted i-cord made from various kinds of sock yarn. I wear the necklaces sometimes, even though they are itchy.
I bought Lindsay a few years ago and used her as a form to make a piece I call “the hunter.” Here it is, partly finished:
The hunter is the most cathartic thing I’ve ever made. For several months, I had trouble being in the same room with her. I was thinking of nkisi nkondi when I made her. The making was a ceremony, during which a lot of odd things happened in my head. She’s easier to live with now, but I still experience her as a vehicle of tremendous power. She’s not so much a sculpture as a ritual object.
Lindsay stands near my bench and watches me while I work. I don’t know if I’ll ever use her as a form for a sculpture again, but I’ve grown fond of her. She can stay as long as she likes.
also: 