Re-Wild

English:

Over the last few years, I have come to realize that most of my life, I have gravitated to the Natural World, mainly, the forest. When I was a young child, not living near any forests, I would go out into my yard where there was a giant rock and small bush planted in a corner by the fence where I would sit for hours pretending it was a mini forest for my little plastic figurines that I would turn into woodland beings and where I would also sit and crush little stones open with a hammer looking for "crystals" and quartz wanting to find the beauty in nature.

For many years after, however, the thoughts of going into forests disappeared as I grappled with the task of growing up, dealing with abuse, raging hormones, toxic relationships and other aspects of life in a modern world. However, I never felt part of the modern world.

It wasn't until I was in my early 30s that the call of the wood came back to me so I would drive around, sometimes for an hour or so to look for something resembling forests full of dense trees and the quiet calm except for the sounds of the birds, insects, the wind in the trees. When I would find them, I would go walking around or photographing inside them and I felt something magical every time. I spent two summers in 1999 and 2000 visiting the Delaware Water Gap in New Jersey and it was there that I really felt the vibes of what it would be like to be in the wild. I went into the Delaware River, nude and felt the col water around me with smooth stones under my feet. I felt the wind against my skin and in my hair and there were no thoughts or worries at all. I wanted so badly to hold on to those feelings. Several years later, however, I found myself living in New York City, so much farther away from where I wanted to be and the more years that followed, the urge was growing. Then, I moved to France, near Paris - another city that has become modernized with time. The desire to connect has become so strong that I do manage to find places that are close enough to the wild and where I can frequent a little bit easier. It has been these years that I have felt the beginning of a re-connect to what I feel is as "home" as I can get. I am an introvert, often times a "hermit" and when I am in the modern world, it affects me deeply where I need to find solace. The forest is where I find it.

With the growing concerns of what is happening to our world - the rapid destruction of it, I become very sad. I try to be hopeful when I do read about or see people standing strong to try and create change but even with change, Mother Earth is doing what she wants anyway so no one really knows what their efforts are for. What we can do is live for the now and try to make peace with her if there are enough people willing...this is the challenge. This blog is not about lecturing but just about how I am trying to fit myself into the need to keep my "home"..I don't know how capable I am of doing so, so I just go to the forest, hug the trees, talk to the birds and the wind and pray.

Photographically, I have spent the last 3 years (2021-2024) putting together a major series culminated from 2 separate bodies of work where the desire to be connected to nature runs a thread through. I have named the entire series Re-Wild after listening to a song written by musical artist Heather Nova entitled Re-Wild Me where she speaks about how many people now are feeling very similar to me in wanting to get back to nature as our modern world continues to destroy, disappoint, and makes us feel more anxious, depressed and isolated. If there are indeed so many of us out there that feel this way, and even if I personally can not come together with you all, know that my spirit is with you all. Let's all go hug the trees, speak to the birds and the wind. And pray.

Français:

Au cours des dernières années, j’ai réalisé que la majeure partie de ma vie, j’ai été attirée par le monde naturel, principalement la forêt. Quand j'étais un jeune enfant, ne vivant pas à proximité d'une forêt, je sortais dans mon jardin où il y avait un rocher géant et un petit buisson planté dans un coin près de la clôture où je restais assis pendant des heures en prétendant que c'était une mini forêt pour mon des petites figurines en plastique que je transformais en êtres de la forêt et où je m'asseyais aussi et écrasais des petites pierres ouvertes avec un marteau à la recherche de "cristaux" et de quartz voulant trouver la beauté de la nature.

Cependant, pendant de nombreuses années après, l'idée d'aller dans les forêts a disparu alors que je me débattais avec la tâche de grandir, de faire face aux maltraitances, aux hormones déchaînées, aux relations toxiques et à d'autres aspects de la vie dans un monde moderne. Cependant, je n’ai jamais eu le sentiment de faire partie du monde moderne.

Ce n'est qu'au début de la trentaine que l'appel du bois m'est revenu alors je conduisais, parfois pendant environ une heure, à la recherche de quelque chose qui ressemble à des forêts pleines d'arbres denses et au calme tranquille, à l'exception du le bruit des oiseaux, des insectes, du vent dans les arbres. Quand je les trouvais, j'allais me promener ou photographier à l'intérieur et je ressentais à chaque fois quelque chose de magique. J'ai passé deux étés en 1999 et 2000 à visiter le Delaware Water Gap dans le New Jersey et c'est là que j'ai vraiment ressenti l'ambiance de ce que ce serait d'être dans la nature. Je suis allé dans la rivière Delaware, nue et j'ai senti l'eau froide autour de moi avec des pierres lisses sous mes pieds. J'ai senti le vent contre ma peau et dans mes cheveux et je n'avais aucune pensée ni inquiétude. Je voulais tellement m'accrocher à ces sentiments. Plusieurs années plus tard, cependant, je me suis retrouvé à vivre à New York City, bien plus loin de l'endroit où je voulais être et plus les années suivaient, plus l'envie grandissait. Ensuite, j'ai déménagé en France, près de Paris, une autre grande ville qui s'est modernisée avec le temps.

Maintenant, l’envie de se connecter est devenue si forte que j’arrive à trouver des endroits suffisamment proches de la nature et où je peux fréquenter un peu plus facilement. C'est au cours de ces années que j'ai ressenti le début d'une reconnexion à ce que je ressens comme étant le plus « chez moi » possible. Je suis un introverti, souvent un « ermite » et quand je suis dans le monde moderne, cela m'affecte profondément là où j'ai besoin de trouver du réconfort. La forêt est l'endroit où je le trouve.

Face aux inquiétudes croissantes concernant ce qui arrive à notre monde – sa destruction rapide, je deviens très triste. J'essaie d'avoir espoir quand je lis ou vois des gens qui se battent pour essayer de créer un changement, mais même avec le changement, la Mère Nature fait de toute façon ce qu'elle veut, donc personne ne sait vraiment à quoi servent leurs efforts. Ce que nous pouvons faire, c'est vivre pour le moment présent et essayer de faire la paix avec elle s'il y a suffisamment de personnes disposées... c'est le défi. Ce blog n'a pas pour but de donner des conférences mais simplement de montrer comment j'essaie de m'adapter au besoin de garder "chez moi". Je ne sais pas à quel point j'en suis capable, alors je vais dans la forêt, je serre le arbres, parlez aux oiseaux et au vent et priez.

Photographiquement, entre 2021 et 2023l, j'ai édité une grande série issue de 2 séries distinctes où le désir d'être connecté à la nature est le fil rouge. J'ai nommé toute la série Re-Wild après avoir écouté une chanson écrite par l'artiste musicale Heather Nova intitulé Re-Wild Me, où elle parle du nombre de personnes qui se sentent maintenant très semblables à moi et souhaitent revenir à la nature alors que notre monde moderne continue de détruire, de décevoir et de nous faire sentir plus anxieux, déprimés et isolés. Si nous sommes effectivement si nombreux à ressentir cela, et même si personnellement je ne peux pas me réunir avec vous tous, sachez que mon esprit est avec vous tous. Allons tous serrer les arbres dans nos bras, parler aux oiseaux et au vent. Et priez.

Why the Dress?/Pourquoi la Robe?

April 19, 2024

AnnMarie Tornabene

English:

Back in 2008, for my series Rabbitholes and Revelations and Not Wonderland, I created a long, white dress for the occasion. Not really being a dressmaker, I sort of pieced together something simple but diaphanous in nature to create both an almost bridal gown but with movement. The top of it was transparent because I didn’t have the material to line it, but it was also to create the ability to show my nude breasts when I needed to have nudity in the image. It was, at the time, a symbol of innocence as well. Before I left New York in 2015 for France, I almost threw it out. I thought it had its use and as the elastic was getting worn out, the badly sewed edges fraying, the “pretty, flowy dress” looked like it went through a mill.

The dress, like me, had gone through a lot. Those two photographic series took place over the course of 4 years. They began after I had just married my first husband but long after the trauma between my life with my family and my life with him began. In 2014, when I was in the process of my divorce and facing my ex-husband while he screamed at me, saying hateful, horrible things to me and then my continued confrontations with my mother and having to move back into her home for 6 months to fight against her abuse, I was falling apart but not entirely. Therapy at helped me be a little resilient which helped me stand but inside was a mix of strength and weakness. I felt like a warrior fighting a war with nothing but thin armor. But armor, nonetheless.

I kept and packed the dress to bring with me and when I took it out for the first time to use for a photo shoot here in France, I ripped into the skirt with a scissor and my hands. I haphazardly cut and shredded some of the hem and when wearing it outside, I step into the mud with it, tearing it further in places.

This dress has become my skin with all its flaws. As I wear it in many of my photographic series and in my performance videos throughout the years, my sagging skin, my wrinkles and my scars will be reflected in this dress as it deteriorates with age.  

Français:

En 2008, pour mes séries Rabbitholes and Revelations and Not Wonderland, j'ai créé une longue robe blanche pour l'occasion. N'étant pas vraiment couturière, j'ai assemblé quelque chose de simple mais de nature diaphane pour créer une robe presque nuptiale, mais avec du mouvement. Le haut de la robe était transparent parce que je n'avais pas de tissu pour le doubler, mais c'était aussi pour pouvoir montrer mes seins nus lorsque j'avais besoin de nudité dans l'image. À l'époque, c'était aussi un symbole d'innocence. Avant de quitter New York en 2015 pour la France, j'ai failli le jeter. Je pensais qu'elle avait fait son temps et comme l'élastique s'usait, les bords mal cousus s'effilochant, la " jolie robe fluide " semblait être passée à la moulinette.

La robe, comme moi, avait beaucoup souffert. Ces deux séries photographiques se sont déroulées sur une période de quatre ans. Elles ont commencé alors que je venais d'épouser mon premier mari, mais bien après que le traumatisme entre ma vie avec ma famille et ma vie avec lui ait commencé. En 2014, alors que j'étais en pleine procédure de divorce et que j'affrontais mon ex-mari en me criant dessus, en me disant des choses horribles et haineuses, puis mes confrontations ont continué avec ma mère et le fait d'avoir dû retourner chez elle pendant 6 mois pour lutter contre ses abus, j'étais en train de m'effondrer, mais pas complètement. La thérapie m'a aidée à être un peu plus résistante, ce qui m'a aidée à tenir le coup, mais à l'intérieur, il y avait un mélange de force et de faiblesse. J'avais l'impression d'être un guerrier qui se battait avec une armure très mince. Mais une armure quand même.

J'ai gardé et emballé la robe pour l'emporter avec moi et lorsque je l'ai sortie pour la première fois afin de l'utiliser pour une séance photo ici en France, j'ai déchiré la jupe avec une paire de ciseaux et mes mains. J'ai coupé et déchiqueté au hasard une partie de l'ourlet et lorsque je l'ai portée à l'extérieur, j'ai marché dans la boue avec elle, la déchirant encore plus à certains endroits.

Cette robe est devenue ma peau avec tous ses défauts. Comme je la porte dans plusieurs de mes séries photographiques et dans mes vidéos de performance au fil des ans, ma peau flasque, mes rides et mes cicatrices se refléteront dans cette robe qui se détériore avec l'âge. 

Closure - June 26, 2023

As the Kickstarter campaign begins to come closer to the end, I have been sharing excerpts from My Body Collective - the short autobiography that I have written last year "commemorating" 25 years that I am on this artistic path to self-healing and acceptance with the use of self-portrait photography as well as my career as an artists' model. In the book, I talk about my childhood and the abuse I endured starting with my mother, then classmates, then men and others that I had relations with and more. I talk about the effects the trauma from these experiences have done to me - in aspects both bad and good and how I have managed to live with it all and how my art has basically saved me in so many ways.

Yesterday was my mother's birthday. She would have been 87 years old. She passed away at the end of 2016 and while I had very little emotion from her passing, I do think about her when her birthday arrives. I have also received some news the other day from my sister that the house is finally sold. My sister had lived with my mother her whole life and after my mother's passing, she lived there longer trying to figure out her own life. She has now moved out and sold the house and when she told me, it left a pause in me. This is the house that I lived in until the age of 35, although by the age of 23, I was really only there for basic needs of sleep, shower, eat...I spent most of those years in university and at the houses of men whom I may had been involved with. However, this was the house where it all started - I was born there and grew up in a toxic environment. It started with my father's official diagnosis of schizophrenia at a time when little knowledge/support was there and then problems with my oldest sister which led her to move out of the house. My mother had very good reasons for being angry and upset. However, those emotions should not have been taken out on her other children. Unfortunately, they did and she did until the day she died.

I suppose there had been some happy moments there (there are photos that appear to show them but...photos) but they were tainted and often completely overshadowed by the anger, jealousy and more. The fights between my mother and father would escalate to verbally violent proportions and were a constant. The mean, hurtful words that my mother used toward me every day would go deep inside to the point where I believed everything she said. The "funny" thing is that as the years went by with this constant abuse, she would often say she loved her children and how she had children to take care of her when she got old and as I got older, I thought about that. If a mother does not show her child real love nor take care of her child the right way - meaning beyond the basics of feeding, clothing, etc. then how can the child care for the mother? But sadly, my sister tried in spite of what was done to her as well. I feel for my sister and I wish she had the courage back then to find a way out as well.

None of this matters now. The house is gone. My sister said she had blessed it all that she could so that the new family moving in would not feel any of the negativity that was harbored there. I, too, wish whoever is living there now peace and love and a real home filled with happiness. These are things that I truly wish I had and that I am now working to have. I finally have a truly loving husband whom I love so very much but the scars of my past still run deep and it is taking lots of effort to reach that goal of true happiness. All is not lost though and as I close that chapter of my life by writing this book, the selling of the house cements it. It's time to finally breathe.

This is the last photo I took of the outside of the house in January 2017. It had gone through some outside renovations over the years and not quite what it looked like when I was a child.

This was my mother's recliner in the living room. It was her throne in what I had named the dragon's den. This is a more recent chair but she always had a recliner and it is in this chair, she sat day after day, with a cigarette in her hand, lashing out at all of us, abusing us, telling me that I was fat, ugly, grotesque and other hurtful criticisms about how I looked. It was all the time and you could not walk past her at all without something bad happening. Of course none of it was solicited. She couldn't control herself and had to say these things to make her feel better about herself, the situation, whatever it was in her mind. When I saw this chair for the last time, it was the only moment I cried. I cried almost happy tears because I knew I would never have to pass her in that throne ever again.