Impression Chain

I was inspired to create the Impression Chain from an experience with my youngest son. In a robotic state, I was navigating the Children's Hospital to get to his side. A mother of her own opened the elevator, smiled, and held the door open. There were no words shared, but that interaction impacted me greatly that day. A simple gesture informed my day. In creating this collaboration, I asked the question, "how does one work of art inform another?"

My youngest son has complex medical needs, and the last two years have been full of research, doctors appointments, and trusting my mother's intuition. In creating this collaboration I knew I wanted a mother's perspective, so four other mothers were invited to the project without knowing the other artists. All artists were asked to view the work they received, take note of the impression the work had made, and create a work inspired by that work. I'm so pleased with the outcome and how it communicates motherhood through each of our lenses. Motherhood is a collective. It's unique, yet similar. It was wonderful to overlap with these four inspirational artists and mothers

My work to start the chain is entitled "Juggle" and inspired by my son's complex medical journey, I find my life and routine thrown in the air. I stand upon a stage with others watching with my two children my priority. I question, if even on my best day, if I am enough. Thoughts can be fleeting and I'm thankful for the moments of intentional perseverance as a mother navigating her new normal.

- Marissa Raglin

Marissa Raglin's piece "Juggle" brought up all the anger and frustration I feel when I think about the expectation of women to "do it all." I could give you an entire dissertation on how our capitalistic society runs on the unpaid labor of women, but instead I'd rather share with you my highest and best self.

When I think of my highest and best self, I am holding a baby. My breathing is deep, my heartbeat is calm (a baby synchronizes theirs to yours, you know). I am protective. I am present. I am other focused. I am both serene and full of joy.

The balls will drop. There is no way they cannot. Because it is impossible to juggle when your hands are already full.

But, as I hold a baby, I dream of a society that asks "how can we support the mother?" first in every deliberation.

- Mary James Ketch

I spent a lot of time with Mary James Ketch's "Drop the Ball" – sitting with it and next to it, rolling around in it, its colors, its nuance, its glow. The piece is a narrative unto itself, and to me its story conveys a "light". That once upon a time a mother stands beneath a full moon. And the moon is not the biggest light in the room; the biggest light is within her. Within her are a thousand moons, each the color of her skin, as is the moon above. And in my reading of this story, they are all her children.

It caused me to reflect on mankind's mission to the moon: How it was out of the question that a mother would ever land there. But also how a mother is a land of her own, how she owns her own mission in a place no man could ever go—growing, birthing, feeding, and nurturing a child within the landscape of her body. And how a mother's light, represented in my piece by a light on in the kitchen, is the most powerful light in any darkness.

This project has once again reminded me of all the reasons collaboration matters: Because we can make stuff together that we couldn't make by ourselves. Because community makes us better. And, because working together clears away the miasma, tears down the walls of the world, holds up a light, and says, "Hey! We're going this way. Wanna come?"

- Angie LaPaglia

I enjoyed how there's an air of mystery to it all. I got Angie LaPaglia's work as inspiration, and the words and the light are what guided me to my piece. The lack of color and the weight of words. I incorporate words in my work, but you can't really ever tell what it says, whereas Angie's is a prominent part of her work. In return, I did lots of colors and lots of illegible words, not intentionally. Just that's how we work! Everyone's practice so different, everyone's life so different, but we all share many commonalities. Something that is ours.

- Denise Duong

In the artwork I received, I noticed a vivid palette of feminine colors, two figures, and cursive script. The title evoked a profound transition in my life—from a time that was solely "mine" to a shared experience of "ours," a life my family and I create together. The two figures seem to reflect on the past while gazing toward the future.

In my work, I see myself represented as the pitcher, with my children symbolized by the cups. The feminine form of the pitcher is not merely a container, but a vessel of service. It pours its contents into another, a metaphor for the nurturing nature of motherhood. The pitcher leans protectively towards the cups, offering them care and shelter. Around this scene, cursive thoughts on motherhood flow alongside peonies, flowers known for their resilience and beauty as they bloom stronger each year.

This collaboration has led me to realize that motherhood is a shared journey, yet each of us interprets and experiences it in our own unique way.

- Liz Boudreaux