“Am I in love? — Yes, since I’m waiting.” The other never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn’t wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game: whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover’s fatal identity is precisely: I am the one who waits. (Roland Barthes, Fragments d’un discours amoureux. L’attente p. 47-50)

This artwork is about waiting. About the fatal identity of the one who waits for a promised (or hoped for) sign, waiting for a proof of feelings, hoping for silent communication, without reciprocity. Truths are confused with fantasies and wishes. The delay of the other is analyzed and at the same time the one who waits is brainstorming, having a mixture of unimportant and substantial thoughts.
The accompanying text (see below) explains the artwork – a girl waiting all day long in front of her door for someone to come – her waiting symbolizes and dramatizes more trivial scenes of waiting, eg. refreshing your inbox, waiting for someone to log in to a chat room or instant messenger, waiting for a phone call, waiting for someone in a cafe…

Ina Mar, Waiting for a phantasy, 2009-2010, mixed digital and traditional media

Her eyes are fixed on the floor. She knows that he’ll be coming any second now, so she doesn’t move. She remains seated on her knees in front of the door. Her eyes scrutinize every detail of the door:

The paint is beginning to flake off here. What’s that little scratch? I suppose it’s from that day I was hurriedly leaving for Paris and bumped against the door with the suitcase. Why was I in a hurry? Certainly the usual: I must have waited to get ready until the very last moment and almost missed the train again – how typical of me. Why isn’t he coming? What time is it now? A wall clock, that’s what I need. Hm… I think I shall have to clean the skirting boards sometime, I never bother to do it and it’s so dusty. What an occupation, cleaning skirting boards… Perhaps I’ll do it tomorrow. I have some kind of appointment tomorrow; I don’t quite remember what it is. I must have written it down in the calendar, let me check.

But she does not leave her place to check the calendar. She changes her pose and squats on her haunches.

I had planned to show him my new artwork today. Do you think he is going to read the text I placed in the background? Nobody ever reads these texts: they must all think they’re visual effects. But it’s better that way, I don’t like everybody to read my texts, they won’t understand them anyway. But I’d love HIM to read this text. And what if he doesn’t like it? What if he doesn’t realize I wrote it for him, about him? What if he realizes it’s about him and starts acting distant again? What if he doesn’t believe me? What if he says I’m exaggerating? He thinks “despair”, “anxiety”, “abandonment” are words too strong to utter – oh, he just has no idea. This tile has a broken corner, I never noticed it before. Come on, where are you? Why aren’t you coming?

Her knees are aching and her feet are cold and numb. The floor is cold and it’s getting dark, but she just doesn’t want to get up. She doesn’t want to turn on the light; she doesn’t want to stretch her legs. She denies it to herself! She doesn’t want to run the risk of missing the moment he comes in. What if the door opens while she is missing from her designated waiting place? What if he comes in and she’s not there? That kind of disaster always happens in a fraction of a second! No, she has to sit there and wait, without doing anything. So she won’t miss the moment he comes into the room, so he can see her there waiting. Anyway, she knows he’ll be coming any second now. He HAS to come. Her wish is so strong and sincere that it must come true. Perhaps the fact that she remains seated in exactly the same place for hours on end will force him to come. There must be a way to make him feel her desire and force him to come more quickly. She tries to concentrate on her thoughts, to send him the message that she is waiting for him. If at this very moment the door opens and he sees her, he is going to know that she has been waiting for him. That’s why she won’t abandon her position.

I didn’t even get to comb my hair and dress up today. I came here directly from my bed. That’s another sign of my love: I’m sure he’s going to notice and appreciate it. I didn’t even take a look at my e-mails. What if he sent me an e-mail? No, he never writes on Saturdays. What if he wrote today? Have I eaten today? I don’t remember. It’s OK, we’ll eat together. Do you think he’s going to sense I am in angry with him because of his delay? How would I show it? Am I angry? Why can’t I be angry with him? Why do I forget everything the moment he appears? Anyway, if he comes today, he will sleep here and we’ll wake up together. Maybe tomorrow I should call my brother, haven’t talked to him in a week. This CD is really awesome; I can’t understand why he gets annoyed if I play it again and again. This track, this verse, no, the next one, wait, was it this one or the next one? This is it! He left last Monday while this verse was playing. He said: “May see you this weekend”, then closed the door and went out. I listened to his footsteps on the stairs. Imagine if he came in right now, while exactly the same verse was playing – what an illusion! What if he forgot that he promised to meet me today? Didn’t he promise? Of course he did. What time could it be now? I want to think of him but somehow I can’t concentrate on thinking of him. What might HE be thinking of right now? He must be in a bar with friends, he’s sure to have gone out, it’s Saturday night.

Suddenly she realizes that if she concentrates on her thoughts, the message should travel to his ears, he will then sense her despair, feel that she needs him and come. The sound of his keys opening the door, his scent suddenly overwhelming the air, the image of him walking into the room and telling her “I sensed that you needed me, so I came” – she would give everything to experience this. The image passes vividly through her mind, rewind, replay, repeat. Now she lets her eyes play over several objects lying on the floor around her: a pair of shoes, a small piece of paper with a phone number, an umbrella. Her eyes fix on every object and mechanically scan it:

I bought this umbrella six years ago, in Salzburg, that day when the rain just wouldn’t stop, they only had this green one, now I’m left with an ugly, green umbrella. Is there a way I can think “strongly”, so he can hear me? Let me try right now. I won’t let any other unimportant thoughts confuse me, I will think strongly of his eyes, no I will visualize that I am talking to him – now I am talking to him: hey love, listen, I need you, please come, it’s very important, because I really missed you and I can’t stand your absence any more. What else could I say? What if he doesn’t hear me? What if he’s working today and he cannot come? Someone’s on the stairs, I can hear steps. That’s him, oh god that’s him! I recognize him! Is that him? No those are women’s steps. Damn! She is talking on the phone. Oh well, some people are having fun today. They have the right to have fun. I hope someone finally got the light bulb changed in the stairwell. He told me I should call him if I wanted to see him. I could just have picked up the phone and invited him. He’d come as always, wouldn’t he? But I don’t want it that way. That’s not enough. I want him to sense that I am thinking of him and to come on his own. I need you, please come. Isn’t that a good enough reason: what do I have to do to convince you?

Text: Ina Mar

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Created June 2010.
Technique: Mixed digital and traditional media (photo, photomanipulation, paper collage, scanning of found or discarded material, pencil drawing, digital drawing).

Credits: The male figure is based on a self photo taken by justmeina (model and photographer).

You can buy this artwork on Redbubble or Imagekind – for signed prints, contact me…

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Untitled by Ina Mar, June 2010, square 70×70cm (27.5×27.5in)
mixed media (drawing, photomanipulation, digital painting)

Credits: figure from “Exlibris” by Franz von Bayros; head and body texture taken from Schiele’s self-portrait

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The first one makes an allusion to facebook, the second one to Twitter.

I designed this for a competition on the theme Privacy in the Digital Age.

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Old Darkness Fills Me With Unbelievable Sadness by Ina Mar

Girl haunted by the pain and fear of memories that are not letting her go on. It’s a small step to take, but her feet seem to have grown roots into the ground.

Inspired by a verse by Paul Lobo Portugés:

old darkness
fills me
with unbelievable
sadness

Dimensions: 70×70 cm (27.5×27.5 inches)

Technique: mixed media (pencil drawing, digital painting and photomanipulation using multiple textures from my own stock)

Creative procedure:
1. Pencil sketch (see below)
2. Research for drawings by old masters, fitting my idea and lines
3. Mixing my sketch with 6 sketches by old masters (see below, “Sources/Credits”)
4. Digitally repainting / redrawing some parts
5. Adding the text (font taken from book illustration, ca. 1450)
6. Adding structures, colour highlights, refining

Sources/Credits:
- Verse by Paul Lobo Portugés
- Tree drawing by Cesare da Sesto (ca. 1500)
- Arm sketch by Albrecht Dürer (1504)
- Shield holder drawing by Hans Baldung Grien (ca. 1520)
- “Nude squatting man” (self-portrait) by Egon Schiele (1917)
- Skull head taken from “Death and Life” by Gustav Klimt (1911)
- Bird drawing taken from wall mural, Grand Palace, Bangkok

Here is my original pencil sketch (I know I can’t draw!):

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Mixed media: pencil drawing, photo (child, textures), photomanipulation and digital drawing

Stones from Heaven by Paul Lobo Portugés

“What crime what sin had those young hearts conceived
That lie bleeding torn on a mother’s breast…
The human race demands a word from God.”—Voltaire, ” Poem on the Lisbon Earthquake” (1775)

the flesh of the city blends its blood with the dust of earth’s grave
the devil quake broke the bones of their beds with its terrorist bomb
they could see the day light of death in the beaten air
feel it in their prayerful souls as the some time glad day sun fell
into forever’s darkness and all the all reeked with the ashes of fear
where is the loving God of married hallelujahs?

all the poor man’s houses falling falling “amid the deepening gloom”
into a tomb for sons of promise and green daughters
their pleasure and pain drowned in a ghost of tears
lost like raindrops on the grey face of the bottomless ocean
vanished like the passing shadows of stories in the imagination of clouds
why oh darkened God of stones God of the Word God of Heaven?

in the once bright light of a schoolyard’s promise silence now bleeds
where young eyes yesterday shouted from their books a belief in tomorrows
now the living dead carry their bodies with loving worms
on the gallows of their bent backs wander the veins of the beaten streets
chanting horror’s verbs black angels mourning the flesh of graves
where is the open hands of God the prodigal Father?

they lie down forever in the weather of their sorrow with the innocent dead
weep for the seed of their breathless children in the blood lit city of gospel sorrow
no glad to be home families no wined friends with hope’s holiday songs
no loving child’s prayers or whispered shut eye no sweet good nights
no these good soldiers of Jesus’ hosannas are the inspired blind no more
to the womb of endless night no to the forsaken God of their brambled loins

NOTE: If you are located in California (CA), don’t miss “A poetry reading for Haiti Soleil“, Sunday, April 18, 2010, at 7 p.m. in Hieronymus Lounge, Westmont College, Santa Barbara. The reading will include readings by Paul Lobo Portugés, as well as Chryss Yost, Sojourner Kinkade Rolle, Galicia and Starkey, Alice M. Scharper, Perie Longo and Barry Spacks. A suggested donation of $5 or more will raise funds for Haiti Soleil.

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Size: The original (digital file) is 90×80cm (35.4×31.5 inches)
Technique: mixed media (photo, pencil drawing, paper collage, photomanipulation)

Walking Differently but Dreaming Alike by Ina Mar

The model, Anke-Maria Sander suffers from Friedreich’s Ataxia, a degenerative, genetic, neuro-muscular disease, for which there is no cure. She uses a wheelchair since she was 15. Anke is my inspiration and consultant for this disability awareness series.

P.S. Sometimes abled-bodied people need details of suffering, in order to recognize disability. I portray disability in a way that it is not directly visible. The girl is not IN the wheelchair, I don’t show her deformed legs or any of the barriers she confronts every day. I do this in purpose. I don’t think I have to satisfy people’s need for horror scenes in order to accomplish more understanding for people with disabilities.

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Ina Mar, Routine Heartbreaks, 2010, Mixed Media

The girl offers her heart to the black jaguar.
The black jaguar replies: “Use that emotion for something useful – create some art!”
The girl has collected each one of her previously broken hearts in its own jar of formalin. Under the shelf where the jars are placed, the viewer can read the girl’s thoughts: “How many more heartbreaks on the shelf of my life? When will I ever learn?”

Colour palette: dark red, crimson, salmon, gold, yellow, black
Size of the original (digital file): 35.4 in x 27.6 in (90×70cm)
Technique: paper collage, photomanipulation and digital painting, using multiple textures from my own photo stock

Making of “Routine Heartbreak”

Here are some preliminary sketches of the artwork, as well as a short description of my procedure, for those who are interested to see how I create those effects.

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Picture 1 of 6

• A normal photo is taken after a particular pose. The background is not completely neutral, but I use some of the elements and shadings for the final image, instead of a supplementary texture. The panther is added later. Both figures are progressively improved.
• Several elements are provisorily placed on the photo, namely the 8 jars of formalin containing the hearts (taken from a vintage drawing) as well as  textures from 6 Egon Schiele’s paintings and drawings (skin, dress, hair etc, see below in the chapter “Textures and Material”).
• Textures and shades are added in the background to give the yellow tones and that Pompei wall effect. I later added a pink gradient behind the girl, to highlight the hair and body contours.
• The girl’s dress is painted red. The Egon Schiele fragments are adjusted in a way to fit together: same skin tones everywhere, even though the skin comes from 3 different paintings; the passage from one fragment to another must be invisible. The hands have rather red tones, because they are holding the heart. I removed the Egon Schiele mouth and eyes, because they expressed arrogance rather than pain.
• I made some slight changes to the jars of formalin and hearts so they don’t all seem alike (regularity is not always a virtue).
• The outlines are improved, for example the neck part, the face. I added a black contour to the girl and a red contour to the panther. Later I put a red “halo” both to the panther and the girl.
• The text of the girl is handwritten and scanned, then integrated into the image. The panther’s text is a collage of letters from an old note (I like that handwritting).
• I improve / paint / highlight many details. I make slight changes to the textures, namely removing the dark parts from the face, hands and legs, so that the skin is clearer and brighter.
• At the end, I made the girl’s left foot visible, so that a self-evident sexual interpretation of the encounter is excluded (the panther is not between her legs).

Textures and material of “Routine Heartbreak”

The black jaguar is a photo from my stock, taken in the Mexico City Zoo. The girl’s skin, hair and clothing are a mixture of fragments from 6 different Egon Schiele paintings and drawings I discovered during my latest travel to Vienna, complemented with some digitally painted parts:

• The girl’s dress  was taken from the sheets in “Embrace” (1917), Österreichische Galerie, Vienna. The  texture of the girl’s hair was taken from the same painting.
• Parts of the face were taken from Egon Schiele’s nude self-portrait (1911), Leopold Museum, Vienna
• The girl’s neck and the upper part of her dress were taken from Schiele’s “Devotion” (1913), Leopold Museum, Vienna
• The girl’s legs and arms were taken from Egon Schiele’s “Blind Mother” (1914), Leopold Museum, Vienna
• The girl’s right hand was taken from Egon Schiele’s “Erwin von Graff” portrait (1910), private collection.
• The girl’s left hand was taken from the baby in Egon Schiele’s “Dead Mother” (1910), Leopold Museum, Vienna.

Left to right, top to bottom: “Blind Mother”, “Devotion”, “Dead Mother”, “Erwin von Graff”, “Embrace”, “Nude Self-Portrait” by Egon Schiele

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