Chrysalis Book Launch {2010}

WEDNESDAY 9 JUNE 2010
MARY MARTIN BOOKSHOP
THE PARADE, NORWOOD

 

On Friday the 13th of November, 2009, I launched 60 photographic artworks as an exhibition called Chrysalis.

Many of you here tonight were also present that evening, and when I gave my speech to you, it was the first time I had openly and unreservedly reflected upon my journey through anorexia to the people in my life so close. I talked about the content of the artwork, the emotions and intoxicating struggle that prompted it, my maintained inability to understand the enigma of this illness, and my resolution that I no longer needed a resolution for moving on.

That night saw the unraveling of my own personal Chrysalis. It is when everything came full circle for me, and at the time, getting those confronting emotions and vulnerability hung up on walls, in such a public arena, was probably as much for my own catharsis and liberation, as it was for my desire to create awareness and compassion in others.

This considered, I gave very little thought to how people might actually receive the artworks. The opening was wonderful but it was in the days that followed, that a little bit of magic was revealed to us. The exhibition room became like a little haven of therapy and disclosure of emotion.

And it was not only people who had been through an eating disorder that I found connection with, but also people who had been through depression, a divorce, a breakup, grief, the search for identity. And I started to realise the power these artworks held – not only for telling my story, but for this ‘common grounding thing’ that happened between all of us, And, further, I started to understand the powerful capacity of design, as a catalyst for interaction, education, destigmatisation and emotion.

So tonight is six months down the track, and here we are, launching the casing of this artwork – sixty photographic images packaged up into one lovely little transportable piece, which we commonly call the book. The specific vehicle for this interaction has evolved a little, but I hope the power will be just as profound.

By turning page 1 through to 128, in a retrospective sense, you all will all travel my eating disorder experience, and I hope the fusion of text and image can convey, both the intense mind field of emotions I wrestled with, and the alluring, somewhat indescribable enigma of Anorexia.

I have had the privilege of being invited to speak publicly at a few events recently, and these events, together with exhibiting Chrysalis at both Port Augusta and Kangaroo Island, have led me to experience many face-to-face interactions and quite personal connections.

Releasing this book gives a tinge of anonymity to Chrysalis, as I will no longer be alongside every reader, as they pick my book up off the shelf at Mary Martin or in some library.

Maybe that’s good – I have stepped out of my own Chrysalis, so it must be time for this butterfly to go flap its wings by itself for a bit. And, I think about those rare spine-tingling experiences, where, on a very nondescript day I have happen to pick up an odd, unsuspecting book, and feel every part of me drawn in and connected to the book I’m holding. And I’m overwhelmed with the feeling of, “Oh wow, someone else has felt like that.”

And it is this notion, of unsuspecting picker-uppers, that is my private wish and hope for Chrysalis.

This process of creating continues to be a double edged sword for me: sometimes it is very personal, cathartic and soothing, sometimes it absolutely terrifies me, shrouds me self doubt, mistrust in my abilities and in my message. Especially now that I have seen, first hand, how much potential exists. Putting so much of my most authentic and intimate self into my work leaves me quite vulnerable. And, like any artist or creative, I feel our creations are extensions of ourselves in a sense; they are part of our identity, and this will always attribute greater challenge and risk to the work we do.

I saw a speech recently by one of my favourite authors, Elizabeth Gilbert, and she reflected on this predicament that creative people find themselves in. She spoke about how Ancient Greeks and Romans actually considered this creativity as not a humanised part of the artist, but as a spirit, or someone like Dobby the house elf, who lives in an artists studio, and occasionally graces the artist with their exquisite brilliance and genius. The genius is not us then, but something that we are occasionally graced with, for translating this brilliance into a design.

Whether or not you take this notion on, I think the value in what Elizabeth was describing here was when the artist disassociates themselves from their work, they simultaneously take away the pressure… Because, if Dobby is in a bad mood and doesn’t feel like sharing his brilliance, the psychological trauma and blame on the artist is completely shifted.

While I think Elizabeth makes a very valid point here, I am not sure whether I can take this notion on quite yet. Maybe I am still too naïve and full of wonder about the potentials of design, and the rewards that offering my most bare, vulnerable self for anyone to pull apart will bring.

I have had a beautiful taste of these rewards that I seek with Chrysalis, and so far, they have completely outweighed any risk. And with these rewards I speak of, I do not mean monetary, or virtues of success, confidence in myself or the solidifying of an ego, or really anything that is measurable or tangible. It is much more abstract ideals of fulfillment, humility and the realization I can make a difference; and we are making a difference, that I have felt rewarded with, which shows me this is absolutely my calling and I am where I am meant to be.

I suppose the next few years will be the pivotal test – maybe I’ll too become burned, and bitter, and regress, and cut my ear off or something tragic like that, but for now, despite these quite woeful, potential risks, I am resolute in my plight to proceed, and inspire, and immerse myself in my personal creative identity.

I would like to thank a few special people who have helped bring this book to life:

Wayne and the wonderful Aceda team, who have made this book possible, and in collaboration, I think we’ve given this Chrysalis one hell of a life. We must be nurturing a pretty beautiful butterfly inside by now.

To Adele, the dedicatee of this book. To sum up the influence this woman has had on my life would be asking me to describe the indescribable, but I have attempted it on the first page.

To Tracey Wade, a leading authority in the eating disorder field who generously wrote this book’s foreword, and who, once upon a time, sat with me once a week for many months, in that little room up in Flinders, as I unravelled the anorexia.

Thank you to Tammy Jennings, for her beautiful words and for officially launching this book tonight.

To Mary Martin Bookshop for being my first retail arena in which to sell this book.

I want to thank you to my boyfriend Tim, for the incredible, incredible window display that is set up right now at the Mary Martin bookshop on Rundle street, which we designed and then he built for me entirely from scratch. And if I’m allowed to give a quick, and very biased plug, I think you should all watch this creative space, because he has some pretty brilliant plans brewing too.

And finally I thank every one of you, the most beautiful mix of people I have here tonight, supporting the Chrysalis book, and being a part of the ripple effect.