[from Medieval Latin, meaning
(ˈdjʊərə ˈmeɪtə) \ˈdu̇r-ə-ˌmā-tər, ˈdyu̇r-, -ˌmä-\
(Anatomy) the outermost and toughest of the three membranes covering the brain and spinal cord. Often shortened to: dura See also meninges
The brains of my beloveds are damaged. ADHD. OCD. AD (Alzheimer's Disease). For the past several years, my studio time has been sparse and sporadic, subordinate to the care of my charges. This work, this project, is an amalgamationandculmination of my obsessive reworkings of the complicated and mysterious science of the brain. In an effort to understand the misfiring, inflammation, and deterioration of the brains of my people, I have read countless articles on neuroscience and searched images online that are both miraculous and confounding.
I have been relentless in trying to fix and fold their problems into manageable packages—for them and myself. But these problems are medical and far from conquered by doctors and scientists.
My effort, then, has been to make sense, make order, cut and realign and paste--like placing ephemeral bandaids on invisible wounds. To document the sublimity of spirit conquering adversity.
Small collaged works on paper; digital prints of open source research images, manipulated, patching healthy cells onto injured. My futile effort to fix on paper what doctors cannot in situ.
Prints and videos that manipulate brain imagery to emulate the meditative form of the traditional mandala. Densely decorative yet ordered, mandalas are the end result of mindful efforts to measure and contain universal knowledge and beauty.
In the Red Book, Jung describes the mandala as the “archetype of wholeness.” Despite gaps and negative spaces, unhealthy brains become symmetrically whole when configured into kaleidoscopic mandalas, elevating clinical reality into wondrous—perhaps even spiritual—beauty.