Christine Shannon Aaron

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A Finger in Too Many Pies

Taking a look back

Covid Count, 2020-2022, burnt abaca paper, 18 x 15 inches (each page)

In the midst of changing seasons, holiday bustle, and as a new year beckons, I take stock of what I accomplished the last two years and what remains unfinished. It has been a period rife with world upheaval, a pandemic, US political and cultural reckonings, as well as unexpected opportunities and new experiences. Due to lockdowns, there was a wealth of workshops and lectures available online, and I used these to dive into new processes with excitement and curiosity. Simultaneously, other bodies of work were born and grew in response to the fear and anxiety underlying the surrounding tumult. Many of these projects are beyond the halfway point but remain incomplete. They weigh on me.

My goal this winter is to put my energy into three of these projects, complete them and find places for them to be exhibited. To close the circle of what I began several years ago, while the latent seeds of future explorations percolate on the back burner.

Covid Count

Covid Count (detail), 2020-2022, burnt abaca paper, 18 x 15 inches

I started Covid Count in reaction to the incomprehensible numbers of deaths in New York during the initial pandemic. The numbers washed over me, practically unfathomable and I wanted to visually represent these losses in an impactful and powerful way. I started to burn holes on skin-like handmade abaca paper, each burnt hole indicating a life lost to this virus in New York State. Six to seven hundred burns on each sheet. I assumed it would be a short but painful project; a way to reckon with the reality haunting me. As I burn, I am conscious of the loss each mark records, and often feel heavy and sorrowful as the marks amass. What I imagined would be 20-30 pages of this lament, grew exponentially and at this point will require over 114 abaca sheets…as the numbers continue to mount. (Read more about it HERE)

Marking Time

The Marking Time series began in the first weeks of the shelter-at-home orders in March of 2020. I was dying cocoons for Emergence with tea and looking through my many collected and found treasures and had the idea to treat the unused emptied teabags as miniature “canvases”.

Marking Time 39, 2020 - 2022, thread, paper birch bark, oak gall ink dyed teabags, 5.5 x 3.25 inches (unframed), 11.25 x 9.25 inches (framed)

Marking Time 32, 2020 - 2021, thread, paper, teabag, 5.5 x 3.25 inches (unframed), 11.25 x 9.25 inches (framed)

Working on this diminutive scale, composing, collaging, and stitching, served to anchor me. Grounding, it acted as a focused, meditative practice, composing and reclaiming memory and personal history brought into my current experience. As the pile of these small pieces grew, I decided to create one representing each day from the first day of shelter-at-home orders in New York, until the day I was considered fully vaccinated in May 2021: a total of 385. Despite the anxiety and uncertainty swirling in my life the creation of these reflected a stubborn insistence on hope. Using what is on hand, making do. A determination to create something whole and meaningful from collected fragments. (Images and more details HERE).

The Memory Project

Installation view, The Memory Project at California Museum of Art Thousand Oaks

I was thrilled to be invited to exhibit the next iteration of The Memory Project at the Contemporary Museum of Art, Thousand Oaks, in the beginning of 2020. Originally created as a community project in Larchmont and Mamaroneck, NY, I envisioned it traveling and growing in other communities. There were many hurdles to get through coordinating the project from afar and dealing with the constantly shifting COVID restrictions but it was finally exhibited in summer 2021, an excellent time as community members could participate in a relatively COVID safe manner.

It was a treat to see it hung in the beautiful space, and I was delighted that over 380 handwritten memories were added to the project. With each rendition, I read, and record each memory, gather installation images, design a catalog to document the project, and add all the memories to an on-line archive perusable for all visitors to the dedicated website. In addition, my hope is to bring this community project to additional communities and to grow the collection of memories.

Readjusting priorities

It is difficult to tame my natural curiosity and desire to learn all things. A finger in too many pies, I need to quiet my constantly exploring mind and prioritize and complete these artworks before moving forward. I am tucked in during these cold, short days dedicating my practice to bring these series to fruition, both to celebrate them and consider how they will feed into my future work.


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