PORTFOLIO
Soon You'll Get Better, 2019
By Abby Burgess, ‘21
A sister is a forever friend. My sister and I can sit on my bed and talk about life for hours on end. We can watch Christmas movies back to back while downing three cups of hot chocolate each. We braid each other’s hair, play soccer together, and go on late night journies to get ice cream. All of this came to a sudden halt when she was emitted into the hospital about a month ago. Now, the time we spend together is limited. It consists of us sitting on her plastic coated mattress in her grey hospital room, playing cards and board games, trying to forget why she’s really there. It’s difficult seeing the purple rings under her eyes and her arms a little too thin. I wanted to create something for her because she’s always on my mind. When I make art, it always has a deeper meaning. It gives me motivation. I decided to craft a painting. While creating this piece for my sister, I have not just been painting; I have been learning. The process has not only taught me how to mix colors and how to find the right proportions but has also developed my mental toughness when things don’t turn out the way I want them to. The nice thing about paint is that it’s forgiving. Paint is patient. If I mess up, I can give it time and once it dries, I can paint right back over it. I, too, am working on my forgiveness and patience while missing my sister.
This One's For You, 2018
By Abby Burgess, ‘21
Do you ever find yourself in a moment that you want to stay in forever? There is a tangible bittersweetness to it. It’s amazing while it lasts, but that little voice in the back of your mind is telling you that it won’t. You know that it will eventually fade into a cold stone memory, imprinted in your brain, never to be experienced again. The goal with my work was to capture particular memories with drawings that reminded me of my childhood; specifically, memories of me and my father. The pictures range from me as a baby to me as a toddler to me as a child. My father played a major role in my childhood and has shaped me into the person I am today. I drew illustrations of us based off of pictures of us from when I was younger. I drew the pictures with charcoal because I loved the way I could smudge or change any mark I made so easily. But what is the point of drawing the picture when you already have the photograph? Photographs are factual and unchangeable, but if you illustrate them, you can personalize them by putting your signature touch on it. When you hold the stick of charcoal, you are in full control of how the drawing comes out. When I draw these images, it is a way of putting myself back in the memory and holding onto it. These drawings are additionally a tribute to my dad, who has taught me how to always live life to the fullest and to be the best version of myself.
Break to Create, 2018
By Abby Burgess, ‘21
When I shattered my first flower pot, I stared at the sharp fragments sprawled across the table. When I looked at all of the pieces, I had no idea how I would decorate each scrap or how they would all look when I reconfigured them. Courage, loss, diversity, and acceptance are all common themes that are portrayed through this installation. My largest flower pot is particularly about grief and the process that many people face while grieving. For example, one of the pieces of the flower pot is completely coated with red items, and to me this represent the anger phase. Another piece is covered with different eyes of all shapes and sizes, symbolizing the tears that are shed. Overall, the pots correlate with the idea of being broken yet still beautiful. Each piece is handcrafted an range from crazy rainbow colored tissue paper to mysterious word art and eerie images. Before I’d shattered the pots, they were held together by sturdy and heavy duty ceramic. Now, all the pieces cling to one another by a thin strand of glue. Planting the plants inside of the reconstructed pots was a last minute decision, adding more to think about. To me, it means growth and rebirth. You can still be beautiful and you can still grow after being broken. This might be a beginning of a new way of thinking about my pots.
The Blueprints, 2017
By Abby Burgess, ‘21
On Sunday, October 1 2017, one of the deadliest mass shootings in U.S. history occurred. At least 58 were killed and 500 injured. The next day, my heart was heavy and the sorrow I felt for the victims and their families followed me like a rainy cloud. With the introduction of cyanotypes in class the previous day, my mind was buzzing with thoughts, so I just began to draw on my digital negative. With a sharpie in my fingers, my hand gingerly flowed across the glossy paper. I found myself writing powerful phrases like not one more and peace by peace. I flipped on the light box, carefully planted my negative inside, and listened to the soft hum of what would soon be the spark of a long-term project. This project would be a book of cyanotypes. Cyanotypes are similar to blueprints; they’re tinted a rich blue in color. These cyanotypes are a combination of my photographs and doodles with words that comment on current social issues. For example, the gun violence one had 5 bulbs of white light, which represent the 50+ people who lost their lives in the Las Vegas Shooting. My goal of creating this booklet is it to shed some light on things that can be either ignored, makes people uncomfortable, or just overall problems that need to be solved. Most of the time, you see news and opinions online or on TV, but I turned to making a more personal experience; creating a booklet. Tragedies and issues leave a bitter silence, so I hope that flipping through my booklet will give my viewers the space and time they need to process what is happening around us.