The last 3 months have been exhilerating (more blog posts to come!) One of the things I've been up to is working with the FSU Center for Autism and Related Disabilities and the FSU Museum of Fine Art. They have invited me to be a part of a small exhibit of artists who are all on the autism spectrum. I will be showing work from my time in Memphis - including 3 new poems! I finished writing my artist statement this morning and thought I'd share. :-)

Wall text

My paintings exist in time as much as they exist in space. There is a distinct beginning and end to a painting. Some artists will return over and over to the same painting, never wanting to finish or let go. But I enjoy how letting go leads to discovery.  These portraits came out of a period of my life brimming with intimacy. For the first time in my life, I painted myself smiling. I painted myself in love with a beautiful man —  a man I wanted to constantly discover, understand, and share my life. 

These works are as brief as the time we shared. Interrupted and unfinished, I thought there would be more story to tell, more portraits to discover and let go of. But like a painting, love exists in time. Sometimes there is a distinct end to love just as clear as the moment it began. 

It began the night I performed the Hero poem and ended in the middle of things. Almost mid-stroke, there was no time to finish before the drawings had to come down from the walls, rolled into tubes, and shipped hundreds of miles. Then I wrote a Love poem. 

I thought I would create a cannon. Instead I have a vignette — something beautiful that leaves you wanting more. This is what a moment in love looks like.

Sometimes there is a distinct end to love just as clear as the moment it began.

Mikaela Sheldt, Love in America, 2016, mixed media on rag paper, 4 by 8 ft. 

This is what a moment in love looks like.

1 Comment