For the third year, this fall season has inspired another round of Dawn Collection. Since creating this monochromatic collection for the first time in the fall of 2020, this series has become an important one for me, technically and symbolically. This series has pushed me to work precisely and delicately with fragile materials, paired with high-quality (expensive) components, which always adds a level of pressure. And secondly the meaning behind the series has deepened throughout these past few challenging years.
The timing of this year's collection is an especially significant one for me. As I write this, I am well past my due date with my second child, waiting anxiously to meet him - and move along to this next stage of parenthood. By the time the collection goes out, he will have no choice but to join us in the outside world. It strikes me that the metaphor of this series has always hinged on the expectation of difficult things easing. In a word, hope. Back in 2020, we collectively hoped for easing of the pandemic, for reunions, and for normal life to resume. Similarly in 2021, we wished for the same things, as the pandemic's hold lingered. This year, Dawn Collection has taken on a much more personal meaning for me, in waiting on this baby, hoping any day for his arrival. One of the most ordinary, extraordinary experiences of life.
For me, pregnancy holds little joy. I am very open about this, because in sharing this, I hear more and more women who experience the same or a similar thing. At its best, for me, pregnancy brings with it a long series of inconveniences that are so disruptive to ordinary life. At its worst, I find it to be a dysmorphic experience, where my body isn't only my own, and my mind can't quite keep up with this fact. To put it simply, I know the end of it is good, but pregnancy and I will never be friends.
I am a bit wary of going too deep into the minutiae of this experience here, because I also want this series to resonate with other life situations. Life experiences of waiting, longing or suffering: dark periods, but ones that can change 'through out the night,' metaphorically or actually.
In this new series of work, my intention was to create each piece to capture this contrast. By suspending the natural material (wheat fragments, Queen Anne's lace flowers, and lichen bits) in various depths and used alternating layers of black and white resins to set up for creating these pieces. I cut them as precisely as I could (I can't see what's inside each "blank" as I cut into it. That element of risk and curiosity is fundamental to everything that I make). Pictured below are some of the blanks when they were cut open to reveal the inside view.
One of the most important criteria in designing these pieces was that one side of each pendant would represent the inky black tones of 'night,' and the alternative side would be light in tone and colour, portraying the light of dawn. Some pieces were more successful with this design than others - you'll see that from piece to piece. I was also able to load videos of each necklace, showing a full 360° view of every pendant. This way you can see each side of the piece, and the level of contrast achieved therein.
To bring this to a close, I am proud of this year's collection. While I wait a little longer through a difficult time, I know the dawn is coming - it's almost here. Whatever the darkness might mean for you, I hope you also feel the closeness of the light.
You can view the full 2022 Dawn Collection here.
Much love to all reading this. Always happy to hear from you.
With warmth and light,
The day after I drafted this blog post, our big baby boy joined us at last! It still feels a bit surreal that after writing all of this, the next day he was finally here. What joy the new day brought us, and each day since.