We Can’t Heal What We Don’t Reveal

Artists: April Fitzpatrick & Robyn Gibson

Reckoning, Robyn Gibson 2021

When we started this project we were both aware that our artwork intersected at a point of healing. We understood the importance of telling our stories and making space for others to feel safe and share theirs. As black women, we embody unique experiences of trauma with a direct connection to oppression. We know its weight and feel its gravity. During this project, we’ve been able to sit with and process not only past hurts, but present pains as they have taken place in real time. We have been able to hold space for one another and share our stories and emotions in ways we may not have been able to in the past. We’ve dissected issues including depression, anxiety, loss, emotional and sexual abuse, love, and transformation. Our works use movement, color, symbolism, and voice to reveal what must be healed.

Untitled, April Fitzpatrick 2021

From the very beginning we’ve used word association, call and response, and poetry to help generate visual ideas. We communicated primarily through Zoom and FaceTime, keeping record to document our journey. The Zoom calls were not only a way for us to discuss what we wanted from this project, but they also allowed us to check in with one another, discuss our emotions, be present, and witness. During this process, we honored both individual space and bidirectional engagement. Our exercises often prompted us to create an image, show them to one another, and rework each based on what we saw from the other person’s image. Additionally, we invited one another into a guided painting/drawing where we each took a piece of our own work that already existed and relied on the other person to give instruction on how to complete the work. We would FaceTime to check progress and give our guidance before each work session and record time lapse videos as we worked.

Untitled, April Fitzpatrick 2021

 

Pineapple Vessel Body, Robyn Gibson 2021

This project is a culmination of psychological, emotional, and physical work. The word “work” here can be used in conjunction with the word “process.” We’ve had to work and process complex emotions. We’ve had to be intentional in making decisions regarding our psychological well-being. And of course we’ve had to go through the process of making the visual work we set before you. This work, this process, this journey is what we present to you. It is as open ended as healing itself and has been a life changing continuum. It is our hope that people will be able to connect with this work and be encouraged to walk their own path toward healing.

Shooting Stars, Robyn Gibson 2021

Untitled, April Fitzpatrick 2021

Untitled, April Fitzpatrick 2021

Untitled, April Fitzpatrick 2021

Untitled, April Fitzpatrick 2021

Reckoning, Robyn Gibson 2021

Pineapple Vessel Body, Robyn Gibson 2021

Untitled, April Fitzpatrick 2021

 
 

The Artists and their Reflections

April Fitzpatrick

April Fitzpatrick, a visual artist with an Art Therapy background based in Tallahassee, FL, is working together with Robyn Gibson, a visual artist based in Brooklyn, NY. Both are working together to explore black identity, emotional trauma, symbolism, collective memory, and mental health.

@pineappleswithpurpose

When Robyn and I decided to work together, our biggest hope was to merge our expertise to provide a platform that uses the art process to address mental and emotional stressors. Our initial phase began with assessing our own personal stories; we quickly realized that we would become the core of the project. We became responsible for one another. Through this process, I witnessed another artist in real time, which was a first for me. At times, I believe we desire community but we frown at the time, effort, and energy it takes to truly be present for and with someone else. This collaboration strengthened my discipline, awareness, patience, approach, and creativity. Though uncomfortable at times, I deeply enjoyed watching our expectations be broken down and allowing the art to speak. The collaboration definitely stirred some unhealed parts of myself, specifically my fear of losing control and need to predict the next best steps. However, I can confidently say we became students of the process, and I believe we have only scratched the surface, but the toughest part is done. I am looking forward to extending our project's use of creative and arts-based processes to encourage community resilience. In addition, we believe that providing new ways of understanding people's real lived experiences can offer future possibilities in the arts’ role in wellness.


Robyn Gibson

Robyn Gibson, a visual artist based in Brooklyn, NY who centers her practice around personal experiences, is working together with April Fitzpatrick. Both are working together to explore black identity, emotional trauma, symbolism, collective memory, and mental health.

@theartist_rag

Reflecting on this project, I feel my breath. Its depth, how it expands in my lungs, reaches into my belly, moves through my body, circles around to gather itself, and flows warmly from my nose. This cycle is calm, repetitive, and reassuring. I connect with my breath, feeling every inch. I remember when I forgot to breathe. This process hasn’t been easy. I’ve experienced loss, overwhelming depression, high levels of anxiety, isolation, guilt, and shame. As April and I continued, communicated and encouraged one another, this project became bigger and better than imagined.

Not long into the project my grandmother died. I isolated myself for weeks. I couldn’t find my balance. I didn’t realize what was happening until I told April and she named it. Depression. The guilt of my absence during isolation weighed heavy. Through this, April patiently held space for me, sharing with me and teaching me to hold space for her. I learned to listen, understanding it wasn’t all about me. I usually make art alone. This collaboration challenged me, helping me see how another perspective enhanced my practice. I’m learning to live in the moment, pay attention, and be thankful. In other words, I’m breathing again.