Primal Scream

 OK, hold your horses, hold the phone dear reader(s), I went down to the scary basement yesterday and forced myself to confront the stack of some old, some damaged beyond repair, artworks I did in 2003/2004 and shiver me timbers there is some disturbing stuff there. Two pieces near the top of the stack that set the tone quite nicely are one with a nearly-nude OSU Barbie doll with rifles pointing at her; and another a ripped up plastic American flag laying over a pox-marked surface with the words “NEVER AGAIN” at the top of the canvas. I remember distinctly having these two pieces on display at my art show I had at the house years ago, and it’s no wonder some people got freaked out and quickly exited our place. 

These two pieces are very important because they capture my anger at having my journalism career utterly upended and destroyed by a number of factors: a vicious gang of harassing characters at The Ohio State University who effectively chased me out of the Journalism school (where I had a 4.0 GPA); and unknown other harassers who applied unbelievable pressure on me when I was a rising star cub reporter at The Madison Press in London, Ohio. I would go on to have a complete nervous breakdown and psychotic break, be diagnosed with bipolar disorder with psychotic features, thrown on meds, and the rest is history.

It’s extremely painful for me to reflect on having my dreams utterly ripped apart when I was showing such promise—all I want to do is take these two pieces (and indeed all the other pieces of my art in this house) and throw them in a huge Boren Brothers dumpster parked outside one of these McMansions under construction here in the Village. I honestly am questioning right now whether I continue on this current artistic journey I am on, for I don’t want to wade too deeply back into familiar territory. I can get very dark and I’m not sure that’s where I want to now dwell. I know perhaps I shouldn’t have confronted that scary stack of art at least until I had a few more pieces completed, but well, whoops, curiosity got the best of me. Yet again.

I talked to mom about the Barbie doll piece and we decided that I hold off on throwing it out and instead wrap it up in a black trash bag and take it to Fetter to discuss (and maybe have him “safekeep” it for me?). I mean, after all Fetter has one of the journals I hand wrote when I was completely off my rocker in psychosis back in 2017–why shouldn’t he have the most disturbing piece of art I ever did? I wonder what he will think of the piece…he is an esteemed graduate of OSU, he certainly knows the school and some of the thugs that are wandering around campus. He can be entrusted with my wretched commentary on those who have for years harassed bright women who sought to shed light on some of the questionable deeds going on at that place. The Ohio State University. Harumph.

You know, they say that rats are very intelligent creatures, and when we had that bizarre infestation in 2016 (you remember that one, led me to ECT at Ohio State), and they chewed through the dishwasher water line which led to the destruction of several of these pieces in this stack, I’d say it’s kinda amazing the Barbie one is still in very, very good shape. I won’t describe today everything that’s on the piece, but I’m going to give it the tentative title, “Primal Scream” until a better title comes to mind. The ripped up American flag I may call “Cassandra Calling” or something similar to that. I’ll work on some titles for the pieces down there in the basement, if I ever get up the nerve to look at them again.

So on that uplifting note, I bid you adieu for today. It’s very cold here today, with some snow expected shortly. Not sure if I want to do the dog walk today, poor Legs his paws get cold and he wants to go home as soon as he leaves the house. Oh well, off this loon goes. Perhaps I’ll meet some others in my flock today!