Joinmama

Art by Alex March

My work changed focus after the birth of my daughter nearly two years ago, these works are all recent and deal with my concerns about womanhood.
I am a London based artist originally from the North of England working with drawing, photography, painting and film to produce works which explore memory, representation and identity. Laborious analogue and hand techniques are combined with digital technology to explore the object/image relationships of domestic archives and ephemera.

Art by Beth Grossman

Out of the Frying Pan, 2004
Sandblasting on mirror, frying pans, men’s belts
46″ x 66″
© Beth Grossman 2004

Seven frying pans are hung from men’s belts. Text from The Total Woman, written by Marabel Morgan in 1970 as a response to the feminist movement, is sandblasted into round mirrors stuck in the pan. As viewers read the text, they will see themselves in the mirrors. I ask them to take a look at how much has changed and improved as a result of feminism, and to consider how much remains the same within the male/female relationship.

Text in frying pans:

“The days were sunny, the nights were star-studded. Indeed married life was strawberries for breakfast and loving all the time.”
— Marabel Morgan

“Many a husband rushes off to work, leaving his wife slumped over a cup of coffee in her grubbie undies. His once sexy bride is now wrapped in rollers and smells like bacon and eggs. All day long he’s surrounded at the office by dazzling secretaries who emit clouds of perfume.”
— Marabel Morgan

“The typical American housewife begins each day with every good intention. As soon as her husband and kids are out the door, she nobly faces the disaster areas.”
— Marabel Morgan

“She may whine, play the martyr, or escape with her box of bonbons to her favorite soap opera. When the kids come home at three o’clock, she screams at them because she’s mad at herself.”
— Marabel Morgan

“The woman who would never think of serving the same frozen TV dinners every evening sometimes serves the same frozen sexual response every night.”
— Dr. David Reuben

“Would he pick you for his mistress? A mistress seduces. A housefrau submits. We all know who gets the most goodies.”
— Lois Bird

“It’s only when a woman surrenders her life to her husband, reveres and worships him and is willing to serve him, that she becomes really beautiful to him. She becomes a priceless jewel, the glory of femininity, his queen!”
— Marabel Morgan

Text by Nadia Colburn

The Physical World

From MER 14 “Change” Issue

For nine months
I anticipated,

as the other end
of pain,

a revelation:
a world turned

inside out.
Each inch I grew

marked a promise:
my present physical

certainty, my approaching

release. And, indeed,
torn open,

I gave birth
to the end of ideas:

Beyond pain was born
no understanding,

beyond understanding
was revealed

no new knowing but
another body, robust

which no thought
set screaming,

purple faced,
infuriated at air,

and no thought moved closer
to my breast,

and not thought closed
its thinly lidded

round brown eyes,
so soon worn out

by the unfamiliar light.
A proud mother of two, Nadia Colburn lives in Cambridge, MA. Her work has been widely published in The New Yorker, American Poetry Review, LARB, Southwest Review, and elsewhere. A founding editor at Anchor Magazine: where spirituality and social justice meet, Nadia teaches online and in person creative writing workshops that bring together the head and the heart. See more at www.nadiacolburn.com

#Momlists

#MomLists is a guerrilla public art project, consisting of 150 handwritten lists about my early motherhood experiences. The lists are posted around three cities in the Bay Area: 50 in Berkeley (Spring/Summer 2015), 50 in Oakland (Winter 2015/Spring 2016), 50 in San Francisco (Spring/Summer 2016).

Each list is handwritten on a 4×6 card. A layer of bright decorative paper is placed over it and the two are sewn together across the top. The act of making—cutting, sewing, hand writing, stamping—then feeling the tangible, finished product in my hands is a relief. Each piece is a clearly laid-out goal—the opposite of the uncertain nature of raising a child. The lists dangle from ribbons in public spaces (coffee shops, laundromats, community centers) looking like flattened gift bags, waiting for strangers to stumble upon them. #MomLists requires interaction. Readers must lift the pretty exterior to access the gritty, vulnerable list underneath.

The project began in March 2015, 2 years after I gave birth to my son, as an attempt to make sense of (and peace with) my new “Mom” identity. Motherhood can feel isolating. Social media, our modern-day connector, is a barrage of happy mom-and-tot selfies. I am not living that picturesque motherhood life, and my suspicion is: neither is anyone else. In search of an alternative motherhood narrative, #MomLists lifts the societal surface of motherhood and exposes a messier, more resonant truth.

#MomLists adds to conversations about motherhood by expressing feelings most moms don’t talk about in a public way. The writing is both personal and universal. This is clear in the conversations #MomLists stirs online. The project title, stamped at the bottom of each list, contains a hashtag to suggest: “This is a conversation. Go online, join in!” Each time a list is posted in the real world, it also goes up on Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. Moms share the posts and even contribute their own lists or make list requests.

More about the artist:

Minna Dubin is a writer, public artist, and teaching artist with a Bay Area zip code and a Philly heart. She writes essays, monologues, and lists about motherhood and identity. Minna facilitates creative writing workshops for teens and adults. When not chasing her toddler in circles around the dining room table, she is eating chocolate in the bathroom while texting.

http://www.minnadubin.com