Working with clay:
Constructing the pelvic floor.
A site of contention and socialised disconnection.
When you enter this experience for the first time, there is little guidance or support on how to prepare for birth and the postnatal period. I was asked, “Do you have any questions?” But what is a good question when you don’t yet know what you don’t know?
I began my pregnancy by following the standard advice: scans, blood tests, and routine appointments. A good patient follows the doctor’s instructions. Yet, at 30 weeks I realised that unless I took the time to educate myself, the entire experience would simply happen to me rather than with me.
I began exploring birth education and came across hypnobirthing. I found I was no longer a passive participant. I became informed. I had questions. I developed preferences for how I wanted to give birth. It was an empowering shift.
What’s important to say is that seeking this knowledge did not mean I was placing my baby in harm’s way. This is often the tension many women encounter: either comply without question, or risk being seen as irresponsible or self-centred for wanting agency in their own birth experience.
The mother becomes secondary. Encouraged to disconnect from her own body in the interests of the baby. Yet this detachment, I believe, serves neither mother nor their child.
Constructing the pelvic bone
3D model reference: The pelvic region
I know my story is not isolated. My sister, my mother, my friends—many women have felt let down and disempowered by their birth and postnatal experiences.
This clay work is a continuation of this thread, of building knowledge. As I worked, I couldn’t help but think about how the historical subjugation of women continues to echo in contemporary contexts. Seeing where we are now requires looking at what has transpired.
Self Protrait: Turning inwards
My children asked me why my figures have no clothes.
Clothing is never only cloth. It carries language. It signals belonging, status, defiance, personal expression. It can announce who we are — or who we wish to be. It can also shield us, conceal us. Fabric can be armour. Fabric becomes a mask.
I am not stripping the figure bare for spectacle. I am peeling back the outer script. I am asking what remains when we are without layers, when the performance pauses.
What is left?
“A lot of people refuse to do things because they don’t want to go naked. Don’t want to go without guarantee. But that’s what’s got to happen. You go naked until you die”
Yolande Cornelia "Nikki" Giovanni Jr. was an American poet, writer, commentator, activist and educator
29th May 2019
Working on my first self portrait titled: Wild world. Prompted by an ABC news article about the tight lockdowns in Sydney.
A mother of a newborn baby is being ridiculed in the comments section for expressing her scepticism of the prolonged lockdown measures in NSW which have prevented her from accessing post partum support. One person remarking that perhaps she has no support because no one wants to see her.
I couldn’t help but think that this spoke to a wider societal issue that devalues mothers. The difficulty of caring for a newborn is ever present in my memory. Have we completely lost our humanity? Are we not allowed to debate & discuss government lockdown measures? To express difficulties?
It speaks to the state of society’s mental health during this pandemic and an insidious nature that exists in humanity.
I worry about the world I’ve brought my daughter into.