My Name is Faith.
Hi, and thanks for being here for a moment or two. If you're looking for a quick perusal of my work across different areas, check out https://linktr.ee/xfaithrrx.
I am an interesting person* who has been emailing herself longform narrative experiments and nested sets of haiku for over a decade, among other activities of catching glimpses, memorialwriting the fleeting, and playing with tense and perspective to investigate the lines between self, other, and world to unwind some the perceived subjectivity of the rational, relational, and real in the often unnoticeable processes of crafting identity and worldview to build and break the concepts that shape our individual and collective realities across time and circumstance in the complex arcs of the worlds both seen and unseen, at war and making peace or at war with making peace.
*most people are interesting.
I am a self-taught artist whose work documents a severe and persistent curiosity about tendencies of unscrupted narrative in studying structure and form in the natural world and in reflections on the actions of seeing, believing, and being seen in the contexts of time, place, and culture.
My work in longform and the art of process without the goal of products seeks to gauge mechanisms of action and impact outcome in the personal/political workings of power and beauty.
My work uses various methods to experiment and excavate subjects and concepts that inform perceptions of general and personal phenomena that create and define individual and collective identities in the midst of intersecting worlds that are spurred along in a constant churn of disparate information finding theme and meaning in both our individual understanding and external arbiters of what is acceptable in matters of beauty, power, belief, evidence, questioning, truth-telling, and madness as informal estimation of aberration from known norms and as formally problematized experiential states that exist as definitive conditions only in relation to criteria found in the columns of common rubrics determining what is sane and what insane is in relation to the sane.
I make loose (and often unacknowledged) use of qualitative research methodologies and sensibilities, drawing primarily on participatory observation, content theme analysis, and narrative inquiry in a still-evolving practice of autoethnography.
This space (www.faithrr.ghost.io) serves as a grounds to document the development of current work, and is a point of dispersion for media created over the past 13 years through projects that have evolved toward studies of form, composition, and presentation in the acts of seeing and being seen.
Some of my work may create concern or upset, which may result in experiences of "I don't like this." (for you) or surveillance by paranoid national security agencies (for me).
I apologize in advance for any ruffling of ____ and/or kerfuffling of _____.
I am aware that I am not able to speak authoritatively on anything other than my own experience, and even on the subject that is myself, I make no guarantees.
I cannot deny that if there is any ______ I might ____for it is _____. Any work I do seeks to create something of that phenomenon - not only as an absence of _____, but a sense of ____ in the present, a ____of security in the ____ and _____ of one's _____.
Even a small ____ of the _____ is a brief ____ of ____.
As a person who has been entangled in the mess of other people's perspectives, opinions, and problematic calculations of social desirability, I make an effort to engage neutrality in my inquiries.
It is by the quandaries of gauging what might constitute neutrality that biases and blindspots tend to swerve into my awareness as tangles of cognitive dissonance and a belly-deep unease that signals conflict in what I believe I ought to believe - or what I want to believe - and what I find at the end of the line as a closer truth caught on a silvery filament trembling out tiny ripples from the scrawling point of puncture on a surface that reflects a sky unless I find an angle that shows the dark of underwater.
The surface will barely flinch a mention of the reeling tug of toward and away that bears a shifting slippery weight - unwieldy, darting wildly, resistant on one end and the taut yearning not to let it off the line, begging the violence of a bright breaking splash that reveals defiance against the cool slip of gravity that steals the fragile buoyancy of secret selves, sinks them between shadows and sunlight down in the dark water that is opaque only by virtue of quantity, water that is clear as a spring when held as a seeping pool in cupped hands.