The Forest is the endless to dos, the try this, the rabbit holes, the no stones unturned. The Forest is a metaphor for the mountain of disability. The speech therapy, the quest for movement, the endless wishing on anything because why not when nothing else is working, the doctor guesswork and pills, the trying to figure out what all the acronyms mean, the confusion of which books to read or therapies to try, which programs and doctors to dump money into, the fight to get the hands to write, draw, open, confusion of how to teach spacial awareness and why does stacking blocks matter anyway? The Forest is a battle for a better outcome in life. The Forest is a better outcome according to society, culture, institutions. But not all round pegs are going to fit into square holes, are they? But in the Forest you try to because if all you need is love and effort you got this. Except you find trying to fit it all in the day is keeping you up all night. Wait. This is the Forest of impossible. Trying to map every leaf on a tree to make sure you’re not missing anything. There are too many directions and too many to dos you get lost. It is endless. The outcome is in the distance waving at the mountain of effort and you can hear the clock’s slow tick….tick…..tick….progress is so painstakingly slow. Should you enjoy childhood because it is slipping away in this Forest of to dos or try not to fall further behind. Should you keep pushing, trying to play catch up. There is only so much time in a day.

The Forest is an attempt to capture some of the absolute insanity a loved one can feel trying to lift up their child … trying to help them to soar. It is overwhelming. I think of the disability as a forest that I wonder within, A forest with few if any directions that often lead to nothing or nowhere only to get deeper into the maze. My daughter is at war with language, movement, comprehension, interactions and maybe a touch of reality. All the things I took for granted before she came into my life. The things that I never had to really think much about. I feel the weight crushing her no matter the hours or dollars I throw into the rabbit holes. I am forced to question nature, purposes, difference. Ability is a rainbow of colors and realities. Is one more valuable than the next? I question how we look in awe at animals that are wondrously different from one another yet don’t have that same reaction with humans. Do we? I suppose it comes down to fear of the unknown or the difficulty of dealing with disorder in all our attempts to create an orderly society.

I am challenged not only by the ability war I face with my daughter but find my world view has changed. In the Forest I struggle.

Each piece is primarily an illustration montage with photographic elements mixed in.