My Biologikalklok

Biologikalklok 2010 22 x 18 x 3 in. Shadow box, dolls, acrylic fingernails, synthetic hair, clock.

Meet my Biologikalklok. Shortly, a good friend will welcome her first baby. She’s one of the last of my college era friends to start a family. It’s possible I’ll feel a palpable shift when she has the kid; the little girl will be born somewhere around my birthday. In fact, I’m secretly betting we’ll soon share the birthday.

As I press on into my mid-thirties, I can’t help but wonder whether I would like my own family. A girl must tread carefully near thoughts of identity such as these, for they can quickly turn any party into a pity party. As usual, when milling over complex time-wasters, I find it more productive to work it out through art.

In a former life, this was a shadow box with a crumbling wheat weaving inside. It was damn hideous and simultaneously made me nostalgic for the place I grew up – a place where many of my childhood friends are seasoned pros at motherhood, already teaching their offspring to drive.

So there was the wheat thingamabob. It had a functioning clock with a face of gold numbers and reminded me of an Oklahoma sunset. When I found the treasure in a thrift store a few years back, I knew it would be perfect to co-opt.

If you’re in Seattle this Saturday, pop over to the Q Cafe. You can watch my Biologikalklok tick.  It’s one of two of my pieces on display at an Artist Showcase, put on by quiet Productions. The work is just a small part of a big, creative dialogue they’re hosting on identity, masculinity, femininity, and gender.

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