In my life before art, I was in computer technology — a male-dominated field as now, though a little better then. I read guidelines for how to communicate in that environment: be assertive, not aggressive! Don’t use too many exclamation points! (Actual feedback on the job…) But it didn’t matter how many business or psychology articles I read: I was not believed, I was ignored, and I was not supposed to be angry about it.

I tried and tried to get my point across, but I fumbled — a lot. Was it because I was an awkward child, teen, young adult? Or was it because women are just not given the benefit of the doubt like men are? It’s probably both, and yet, so much of what I’ve said has been dismissed, discredited, disbelieved. Especially in that technology setting, or anywhere else men dominate.

When did I figure out that this is called misogyny? And that even in minute amounts, it adds up to an unacceptable level of being considered less than, unequal. Greta Gerwig summed it up in the Barbie movie:

It is literally impossible to be a woman…

You have to never get old, never be rude,
never show off, never be selfish,
never fall down, never fail,
never show fear, never get out of line…

From Town & Country, August 2023. Text by Greta Gerwig

I channelled some of that speech, and my own experiences, into this new series, Pretty/Angry, in several ways — through more manual layers: big, physical marks and expressive lines, through some aggressive colour choices and their soothing afterthoughts, and as always, with digital layers and combinations to temper the anger into something pleasant to gaze on.

I’ve gone a few rounds with more abstract work (Quietude and Digital Aerials), and there was more for me to explore. In addition to avoiding photography and realistic representation, what I leaned on this time were scribbled sketches, for delicious detail, and much larger mark-making, that used my whole body. I tend to overthink my art approach, so this was new. Being fully hands-on, sweeping my arms across the page with a large brush — that felt right, physically, and mentally satisfying too. There’s a visceral buzz of feedback from my body, if I’m not too busy thinking to listen and hear it, that tells me I’m headed in the right direction.

Here are some of those rewarding pieces. They were created on 18″x24″ manila paper, scanned and then added to the collage fodder pile. But what great layers they made, when I brought them in as digital options!

Still working physically, I found other ways of playing with scale. One experiment combined smaller elements into one larger surface; then I could add marks across the whole piece, as above. Another new method added texture to my physical collages, smashing on spackling paste with a palette knife, then incising into it. My layers of work started to have a very physical aspect, before they hit the scanner bed.

As I made these large marks, and overlaid them with spackle and more scribbles, I was thinking about representing all that missed communication, those misunderstandings, that underestimation. At this point, the art was impactful, not at all pretty, not meant to look finished, but still on a path I wanted to explore.

When I started to test digital combinations of layers, scanning in my various options, I thought more about the communication process. Much like art, speaking and writing benefit from drafts, from polishing. How many rounds does it take to make the art look appealing, while still preserving the message? Too much smoothing is like feeding your drafts to an AI bot — average, bland, something anyone, including an unthinking machine, could have blurted.

I started to include layers that covered up much of the texture and dark marks, while also introducing delicate diagrams and scribbled collage sketches. The detail and precision, along with the purposely-chosen pretty, covering colours, started to reflect how a harsh or brutally honest message might get smoothed over, in a precise, deliberate way.

As I obscured the rough marks, added details, then stepped back to consider, I was treading the same fine line that women are meant to thread in their exchanges with the world: not too this, not too that, certainly not angry, often subservient, not assuming. And oh, I’m SO tired of it! Using more of my body to create this art, purposely obscuring the anger embedded in the pages, feels more productive, more appropriate, more self-expressive than any time I’ve been left with the taste of foot in mouth or the shock of not being heard, trusted, or believed.