I am haunted by an experience.
I am haunted by the image of the experience.
I am haunted by these themes during Art Every Day Month: Women Artists and Writers who left us too early, primarily due to mental illness - mostly depression.
I love cemeteries. I know there is a schism between those of us who LOVE cemeteries and those of you who think cemeteries are fine, from far away.
The cemetery I am using thus far in “Women’s Sphere?” is one of the most unique cemeteries I visited. I was couchsurfing in Connecticutt . My host, DeAnn, who I also visited recently in Vermont, took us on a quirky tour of her town, including the historic site, Connecticut Valley Hospital.
A bit of history: “The Connecticut Hospital for the Insane was formally opened in Middletown in 1868. Two years earlier, Middletown had granted the site to the State for the establishment of an asylum to accommodate Connecticut's mentally ill. By 1896, four groups of buildings had been erected and the institution was one of the largest of its kind in the country.”
What fascinated me most, though, was our last stop: the cemetery where there were rows and rows of graves. These graves were marked with numbers, not names. These were nameless, unclaimed mentally ill individuals who died without anyone. They left behind…. Numbers.
Among these, I am sure, are plenty women who had postpartum depression or psychosis, brilliant young women who lost their minds in late adolescent and most probably, some women signed into the hospital by husbands or family members who may not have even been mentally ill. This was the 19th Century, after all. Women couldn’t vote or own property or make their own decisions.
Women were, primarily, chattel.
For these women, this was there adult home where songs were left unsung, words were left unwritten, stage plays never found an audience and paint brushes forever packed away, out of reach.
This piece, you may notice, has a home in the heart in the middle. It is the tower representing the Yellow Wallpaper towel. In actuality, it is the writing tower of Nathaniel Hawthorne who was tormented for different reasons.
This is The Yellow Wallpaper House from yesterday and the HOME piece and my cat, Constance, lurking outside. I found that to be a poignant metaphor.
This is a photo capturing What's Now and What's Next. The spiffy item underneath home... oh, I remember when Country Kitchens were the thing and these were everywhere. Anyway, now it is turning into a memorial for Sara Teasdale, first woman recipient of the Pulitzer Prize. She was a melodic, sentimental poet who some appreciated and some scoffed.
I love her and her work. When I was working on "Home" she kept coming into my
almost pleading with me to include her.
Sara Teasdale was born August 8, 1884 in St. Louis Missouri. She died, a suicide, on January 29, 1933. This date is actually twenty nine years to the day from my birth. Intriguing… yes.
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© 2011
Julie Jordan Scott
Haunting to me, as well. But in a good way, affirming the serious work I have done the last three weeks. These women's stories make me grateful for the progress the world has made in respecting women for who the are, and for the advances in treating the mentally ill.
Posted by: Mlissabeth | November 12, 2011 at 09:31 AM
Goosebumps, Julie! Thanks for sharing. In my town there is actually one of those old institutes, luckily empty now. They're using it at this very moment to make a movie about exactly what you write here... my god, will I need a hand to calm my anger and protest until outside the theatre...
Posted by: Nele | November 12, 2011 at 12:16 PM
Great read Julie, you gave me chills. I am also one of those people who really likes cemeteries especially really old ones.
Posted by: Julie | November 12, 2011 at 12:47 PM
Wow... Julie... fascinating. I express my creativity through writing and cooking, so I always enjoy reading first-hand accounts from artists explaining their process and inspiration. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Posted by: USAlovelist | February 17, 2012 at 07:12 AM
Fascinating... loved this. I do believe there is a fine line between creative genius and insanity. Or maybe it is society over the years that have pushed us to this line by discounting and suppressing our freedom of expression through art and writing.
Thank you for all that you do.
Peace,
Morgan
Posted by: Morgan Dragonwillow | February 17, 2012 at 11:03 AM
Blown away, I will have to visit this place some day.
Posted by: Susan Silver | February 22, 2012 at 11:15 AM