Tiffany Joy Villahermosa’s Fears and Tears Sketchbook Project 2012
Tiffany Joy Villahermosa’s Fears and Tears Sketchbook Project 2012
FEARS and TEARS
It’s easier to share our strengths with friends or close ones but perhaps challenging to share our vulnerabilities with others. Could it be fear of embarrassment, judgement or maybe much pain is attributed to our fears and tears. What do you fear? What makes you cry tears of joy or perhaps tears of sadness? Why?
The goal of my project is to have a deeper understanding of those in my life and for those who do share their fears and tears, an opportunity of self-reflection and perhaps a sense of comfort reading others’ vulnerabilities who may mirror our own. May it be possible in understanding others’ vulnerabilities ours may shed? Maybe our own judgements of others be softened? A possibility perhaps …
Every page represents the fears and tears of those who opened shared what lay in their hearts. Perhaps you may recognize the soft and hard edged letters of the words inspired from everyone’s thoughts, beautifully abstracted within the white design of each painting …
FEARS: of becoming someone other than myself, someone I don’t want to be (losing identity)
FEARS: eye operation or loss of eyesight because everything I do as an artist, I use my eyesight.
TEARS: the inability to escape, when a person is trapped in a a situation or way of life that they cannot disconnect from.
Dan McLaren ~ December 2011
Anger wakes me up as the sun rises and kisses me good night. Why did I allow a part of me to chip each day, living a life of anxiety, secrecy, confusion and lies?
I walk with a smile but my heart mourns a relationship that truly never was …
You were so careless with my heart.
In protecting your own fragile soul, you shattered mine.
Anonymous ~ December 2011
MY FATHER’S HANDS …
They once turned my skipping rope and flipped the pages of my favourite book. They braided my long, black hair and put band aids on my brown, skinned knees. They threw a worn out baseball to my waiting glove and fixed the greasy chain on my hand-me-down bike. Those hands …
They showed me how to bury tiny vegetable seeds in the earth and to maneuver my kite in a turbulent sky. They strummed a beautiful tune on an old guitar that I still hear in my head. Those hands held me close each night before I went to sleep. They were safe. They were beautiful. They were my daddy’s hands.
Then one horrific day, those same hands were on my breasts. They were between my legs. They ceased to be gentle and soothing. They violated my most intimate parts day after day. Now those hands petrify me. They signal absolute betrayal and evil. They ripped the soul from within me and forced me to submit like a wretched whore. They placed invisible shackles around my wrists as I fight to believe that I can be more than that little girl quivering in her bed. Those hands …
They now bring the deepest sorrow I have ever felt in my life.
Anonymous ~ January 2012
I fear not living my dreams … I don’t want to miss out what life has to offer … declaration of unity with the people we love … my passion for music.
I cry when I am unable to connect with loved ones when I miss them. I want to be close though I am so far.
J.V. ~ November 2011
I am afraid of dinosaurs TT … Dinosaurs at Deema Castle on Mariposa. Olivia didn’t let me watch my show … and I said, O-L-I-V-I-A, let me watch my show … she didn’t let me TT, and then I cried.
Maya ~ December 2011
Tears: Estranged relationships because they hurt the hearts of the innocent.
Tears: Beholding the joy of sisterhood between my daughters and thankful that they will always have each other.
Tears: When the setting summer sun casts a certain glow on a house, reminding me of the carefree days of my childhood.
Fears: The quickening passage of time because memories that were once vivid become more elusive; I don’t want to forget how I felt at a moment in time.
Anonymous ~ December 2011
