I am...
Tangled Thoughts and Another Hair Art Piece
I sent this video to my friend to get her feedback. She replied that it was good but noted it was just a few minutes of hair. Well, that was the intention; that was the whole point: a video just about hair. I was afraid it might seem silly or stupid because I wanted to create an emotionally charged video by simply presenting my own hair.
"It's just hair; there can't be much to it," you might think. But in 2024, everyone is used to being bombarded with explosive information that seizes attention and keeps people interested, as the attention span of viewers often doesn't last more than 60 seconds.
Over the years, I've tried to teach myself to observe things deeply and find beauty in the act of observing seemingly mundane things. For example, just staring at a tree and deepening my focus on it reveals its beauty to me. Perhaps it's a form of active meditation. When I watched "The Passion of Joan of Arc," a silent movie from 1928, I thought it would probably be a challenge for someone used to watching TikToks and metamodern movies. You need to observe to understand, and observing is an effort today.
Why hair, though? I have already made a collection of collages with my hair and am still working on that project, so I hope to make an exhibition about it. This video will probably be part of it. My hair means a lot to me, and I won't delve into the symbolism because I've discussed it in my collage series. But I want to explain why I made this video.
Lately, I've been coping with existential anxieties. I left my country and don't plan on going back unless I can't find a way to support myself here in Italy. I have a clear vision of what I want to do and be. I want to make art, and I believe I do that best. But at this point, I'm unable to live off my art. I'm not a skilled graphic designer; I don't create game characters. I just make art and tell stories visually. How do I monetize such a skill without already being a famous, wealthy artist? I'm not a "nepo baby." If I had wanted to work in the restoration and conservation of cultural heritage, I probably would have been successful since that's what my family does. But I wanted to be myself and do what I feel I need to do
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I think every artist struggles with this dilemma: do I make art, or do I just shut up and do a 9-to-5 job, can't wait to get home, watch TV, eat, sleep, and repeat the same day tomorrow? I used to work long shifts, and I'm horrified by such a way of living. No human being is made for that kind of life, but my mother and sisters would call me lazy for saying that. I'm not lazy because I think it's inhumane to live that way. I'm deeply anxious and scared about what will become of my life because all I want is to make art. Every spare penny I have, I invest in art. I don’t buy new clothes or shoes; I buy art supplies or whatever I need to materialize my ideas. It's stronger than me.
The video is simple; it shows frames of my hair from different distances and angles. Just hair gliding over a blank sheet of paper. In the last frames, you can see me running my hands through my hair as if I'm combing it with my fingers, sorting it out.
I have a tendency to sort my hair when I'm anxious. It seems like I'm tidying it, but it just makes me calmer. I always blow-dry my hair because when it is straight and tidy, I feel my life is put together, and I appear decent to the public. I know I'm not, but at least I appear so. The frames in the beginning are chaotic, like an abstract painting, something like Jackson Pollock would paint. That's my life; that's me. It’s a mess. But my anxieties want to tidy it up so my mind feels calmer.
The subtitles are thoughts in my head, words said to me that keep reminding me whether I'm doing the right thing for myself or not. These are the words of people around me that stay in my mind like a curse, haunting me. As the dialogue progresses, I just give up and accept myself as I am, not caring anymore and doing what feels right for me. The video is mute because I am mute; I don’t talk about these things. It’s a battlefield within me. The camera is shaky, doubling the anxiety vibe.
Faced with limitations in supplies, I turned to my own hair as a medium, and I'm just combing my hair. I put the white sheet of paper below it so it seems as if I'm painting while doing this. I'm painting this paper with motions of anxiety caused by societal pressures, and I'm serving you what you have given me: fear. This art piece reminds me of Arte Povera, especially in light of the global economic crisis and existential issues we are facing. In a time when rent is becoming a concept beyond luxury, it makes me wonder if a new wave of Arte Povera might emerge. Who knows?