Holly
Tappen
Winged Victory
oil on canvas, 24 x 28" |
There can be hope.
After the crime, after the disability had set in, I was standing
against the wall in a public place—an art museum—and
staring into the dark void. It is an ugly place, filled with
horror and cruelty and dirt. I must have looked the way I
felt. A woman came up to me; she was a complete stranger,
about my age, and I don’t recall what she looked like.
She made strong eye contact with me and said one thing:
“It gets better.”
Then she was gone. But she had gotten to me. She said the
exact thing that I needed to hear at the precise time I needed
to hear it. Crime is as nasty as a virus, but worse in two
ways: Illness is nobody’s fault, and after it goes away,
you are immune. Crime is somebody’s fault and it always
can happen again. The rage in the soul of the victim screams
how unfair and horrific it was, and is, and it just can’t
go away.
Deep in Black and White
acrylic on canvas, 24 x 24" |
I tipped into despair after 9/11, along with countless others.
Terrorism is the very definition of crime. I could not get
the images of the falling people out of my head, so I drew
pictures of them, with pencil on typing paper. I drew the
people who chose to leap instead of burn.
Someone was watching. She was another stranger, a different
one, another city, but she also invaded on my grief. Her comment
was, “Look at the flying angels!” I looked at
her as though she were nuts. Angels? Are you kidding? But
she looked innocent, so I quickly drew wings on the falling
people. She loved it, so I gave her a picture.
Angels are mythological creatures with the supernatural power
of flight. They could have jumped out of the Towers and gone
straight up. Those people didn’t. Oh, what do I know?
Maybe they did. Okay, I’ll draw angels instead, even
if I don’t believe in them.
So I drew pictures, all kinds. I revved up the guts to take
a community education course in painting.
Journalist in Chains
oil on canvas, 12 x 16" |
When painting, the horrors recede. When I paint tragic subjects,
they are one step removed from the reality. I put in a ray
of light, or a touch of color, or a hint of reality. Art balances
out crime in a healing way that direct confrontation cannot.
I began to paint seriously, facing the demons to turn them
into angels.
The works here are from darker days. There is a strong timeline
evident as I recovered. You can see the colors begin to lighten,
the subject matter turning away from despair. I do not believe
I could have healed up into a nearly whole person if it weren’t
for my art. |
