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Brigham Young University BYU ScholarsArchive Theses and Dissertations 2006-04-18 Fix Kathryn Williams Brigham Young University - Provo Follow this and additional works at: https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/etd Part of the Art Practice Commons BYU ScholarsArchive Citation Williams, Kathryn, "Fix" (2006). Theses and Dissertations. 418. https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/etd/418 This Selected Project is brought to you for free and open access by BYU ScholarsArchive. It has been accepted for inclusion in Theses and Dissertations by an authorized administrator of BYU ScholarsArchive. For more information, please contact [email protected], [email protected]. FIX by Kathryn Williams Knudsen A selected project report submitted to the faculty of Brigham Young University In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Fine Arts Department of Visual Arts Brigham Young University April 2006 Copyright © 2006 Kathryn Williams Knudsen All Rights Reserved BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY GRADUATE COMMITTEE APPROVAL of a selected project report submitted by Kathryn Williams Knudsen This selected project report has been read by each member of the following graduate committee and by majority vote has been found to be satisfactory. Date Peter H. Everett, Chair, Graduate Commmittee Date Gary Barton Date Joseph E. Ostraff BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY As chair of the candidate’s graduate committee, I have read the master’s project of Kathryn Williams Knudsen in its final form and have found that (1) its format, citations, and bibliographical style are consistent and acceptable and fulfill university and department style requirements; (2) its illustrative materials including figures, tables, and charts are in place; and (3) the final manuscript is satisfactory to the graduate committee and is ready for submission to the university library. Date Peter Everett, Chair, Graduate Committee Accepted for the Department W. Wayne Kimball, Graduate Coordinator Accepted for the College Rory Scanlon, Associate Dean, College of Fine Arts and Communication PREFACE For the past 15 years I have been struggling to recover from the consequences of sexual abuse. I have been involved with many self abusive habits, including cutting different areas of my body. I have come to the understanding that these addictive habits evolved as a direct result of sexual abuse. The stories I am about to relate tell the fears and difficulties I have experienced as well as an account of the tremendous power that art has provided me towards a full recovery. I am writing this memoir in hopes that those who read it will better understand the consequences of sexual abuse, the importance of support and the way in which art can act as an effective form of therapy. I need to make art because it keeps me alive. It feeds me and makes my life livable. I realize that not everyone will understand or appreciate what I create. I realize that making art is always going to be something difficult for people to understand. But I don’t care. I don’t care because I have to make art. I just have to do it. Just like someone somewhere has to jump over a pole and win a gold medal. It keeps me healthy and provides me with the outlet I need. And so I’ve come to the understanding that I make artwork in order to live. I have discovered through my own experiences, that abuse is not something many people feel comfortable talking about. Often when abuse is talked about, people become withdrawn or nervous, afraid to approach the subject. This creates a tremendous strain for those who are trying to overcome the problems associated with abuse. What people need to understand is regardless of the difficulties surrounding communication, abuse happens and it happens to a lot of people. Using art as therapy allows my feelings to take form. They are outside of me for the moment. I can look at them and try to assess them. I have never told anyone the exact details of the abuse as words do not suffice. I have written down a number of detailed memories but I can’t ever write it down the way it actually felt or feels. I know what I’m trying to say but words do not suffice. Throughout my graduate studies art has been an integral part of my healing. I knew I could not erase my abuse but I have found that by incorporating my art as a means of therapy, I have been able to find an increased sense of peace and strength. I have been able to fix things, things that before seemed unfixable. When I first began the project, aesthetic assumptions did not seem as important when compared to the benefits which came from the tangible physical process of making things. The process provided an outlet that wasn’t going to hurt me. After continued therapy and assessment, it became easier and easier to recognize art as therapy. I was learning to channel my feelings and express things I couldn’t express before. I was beginning to heal. For many the process alone could be sufficient; however I could not be fulfilled unless the work also incorporated a satisfying sense of aesthetics. I wanted people to see my work. I wanted them to see it and feel motivated to talk about abuse. I needed aesthetics to lure an audience that might otherwise not approach such subjects. While the main concept behind the work focuses on the actions of degradation, cleansing and reconstructing, I considered the work not only to be helpful therapeutically but also aesthetically pleasing. The work tells a history of the artistic processes which evolved as I continued through therapy. The work includes layers which indicate the advancement from fear and trauma to life and beauty. While parts of this document deal with extremely difficult issues, I have allowed the text to wander, including more mundane or everyday diary type entries. I believe the manner of the text correlates directly with the art, emphasizing not only the brutality of abuse but also the hope and sense of achievement art has provided me as productive means of therapy. TABLE OF CONTENTS Preface . .vii A Slight Set Back . .54 A Good Life . .x Bad Connection . .56 My Mother . .2 Womb . .58 My Father . .4 Candy . .60 My Husband . .6 What’s on the Menu Today . .62 Pure . .8 Steve . .64 The Best One . .10 Satisfying the Urge . .66 My Biggest Fear . .12 Bloody Snowflake . .68 Escape Plans . .14 The Smell of Paint . .70 Little Blue Stud . .16 Four Years Old . .72 The Screwdriver Incident . .18 A Beautiful Hole . .74 The Most Outstanding Artist . .20 Forgotten Fabric . .76 Fake Bruises . .22 Portraits . .78 Body Fat . .24 Clouds . .80 Ceramics . .26 Fist Fight . .82 Jolly Rancher Diet . .28 Blobs . .84 Attention . .30 “F” . .86 College . .32 Shapes . .88 Playing The Victim . .34 Light . .90 Cutting . .36 Garbage . .92 I Stopped . .38 Color Aid . .94 Flesh Landscapes . .40 Type Rope Walking . .96 Dr. Ellis . .42 Washing . .98 Dreams . .44 Stitching . .100 A Nightly Rituals . .46 Colors . .102 Art Therapy . .48 New Things . .104 Picking . .50 Fix . .106 Little Journals . .52 ix A GOOD LIFE I have not had a bad life. I have had a really good life. My family is good, my friends are good, and I could never have asked for a greater husband. I believe I owe much of what I’ve accomplished to them for their love and support. Brave–a good life 8" x 10" 1 MY MOTHER My Mother is beautiful, talented and extremely loving. My Mother made us homemade play dough. She let us use markers and break crayons. We had a large bucket full of crayons and it didn’t matter if you peeled off the wrapper or broke them in half or even melted your drawing in the microwave. There was always an endless supply of glitter, colored paper, glue, ribbon, wire, tissue paper, beads, paints, pencils, stick-on jewels, poster board, tape and scissors. We were free. Free to make whatever we wanted. And it didn’t have to look like anything and it didn’t have to mean anything. We could make anything. Nothing was impossible. My Mother was the master of creation. Every December she would make a gingerbread house covered with brightly colored candies, chocolate kisses, candy canes, gum drop pine trees, vanilla wafer shingles and anything else she could think of. When the house was done she would place it on the mantle from the middle of December until New Year’s Eve when we got to take turns pulling candy off the house. It was always incredible. I remember being totally amazed year after year at the different color arrangements and candy themes. She could do anything. So I knew I could do anything too. I remember my Mother going into the elementary school one day to complain because my older brother’s teacher scolded him for coloring outside the lines of a silly little Xeroxed drawing of a pumpkin. She wasn’t going to let anyone stunt the artistic growth of her children. My Mother made sure we knew we were loved. I love my Mother. 2 Brave–my mother 4" x 6" 3 MY FATHER My Father is intelligent, good looking and everyone loves him. When my siblings and I were younger, nearly every night our father would come into our bedrooms to sing us goodnight songs. He would bring in his guitar and we would shout out requests such as Lemon Tree, Very Pretty, Puff the Magic Dragon, Scarlet Ribbons, or Goober Peas. I have always had a good relationship with my Father. Every Saturday one of us would go on a “special time.” “Special time,” that’s what he called it.