Wounded Bird
The Wounded Bird
6” x 9”
Mixed media: fish gills, raccoon skull, oyster shells, silver, bronze
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Desperately wounded, this little bird huddles within the remnants of a bronze slag nest. Her back has been torn wide open, her organs are exposed. And she has lost her feet…
In 2016, it was finally revealed that my art practice had been exposing me to some of the many pollutants (lead, arsenic, mercury, cadmium….) that contaminate our beautiful natural world. I suffered a devastating injury, and had become this little bird with a catastrophic wound. But then, in exchange, so many other things were to come into focus. And I learned the value of my calamity.
Her body is formed from fish gills, ridged and translucent, with hues of brown and taupes and, where the light shines through, there are hints of orange and sienna, and red. Her head is formed from an oyster shell, with a small metal beak that protrudes from the oyster’s hinge point. Lifting off the top shell, we discover inside, a little nest made from intertwined and blackened sterling silver twigs, and with a single egg beginning to hatch, that represents her brain. It is made from silver that has been whitened by the torch, and adorned with shimmering moonstones. Lifting out the brain, underneath we discover another tiny broken egg - an injured and discarded brain - made from whitened silver and a small Mexican opal for its yolk, that takes refuge in the bottom of the nest.
When her body is lifted out from her nest of bronze, a small silver and sapphire feather in her back begins to quiver, as she quietly trembles in fear.
She is hinged underneath and may be opened, and her organ structure, based on a raccoon skull, can be lifted out for closer examination. On the exterior, a we can see a digestive pathway that leads from the crop at the top, which is a lovely bisected geode, and then through some red snapper teeth that form a hole in the cranial cavity, and then on to a gizzard represented by some barnacles. On the opposite side of the raccoon skull, is a tiny fish that represents her liver, with a golden pearl gallbladder hidden underneath. Below it, deep in the crevice near the raccoons's eye socket hides a little white seashell and silver, spleen.
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The raccoon’s skull has been bisected. Splitting it open we can discover the rest of her organs. The trembling feather can be removed. It is attached to a little fish, with tiny seashells for kidneys embedded on its reverse.
Her lungs have been constructed from two eroded and carved cowrie shells with delicate sterling silver mesh and garnets, reflecting their fragile internal structure. And her reproductive system is devised from a little seahorse, locked tragically in servitude. At the top of the seahorse’s head is the primary ovary, which produces little pearl eggs. Over the belly, there is an ornate silver filigree hatch, which may be opened to reveal a single larger egg, formed from a luminous black pearl, that is on its way through the system.
But it is from her heart that flows her most painful message. For it was formed, with silver and tiny sea worm tubes, on and around an actual spent bullet that was once given to me by a hunter. The heart’s vessels extend over the burst lead and brass surface of this cruel source of her injury, and speaks of pain and sorrow and bitterness - and how what hurts us can sometimes become all that is left of our hearts…
But, while she was originally constructed as an expression of my injury, through the making of this piece, this little dying bird was to reveal larger, gaping wound in the body of our beautiful biosphere - one which was to fill me with great sorrow and regret.
Her feathers, formed from fish gills, were found in the herb shops of Chinatown. I discovered them stuffed in a jars and trusted that somewhere, a fish had been eaten and the gills set aside for medicinal purpose. But when I tried to ask which fish they came from, the lack of any common language left my queries all unanswered.
It was some years later that I stepped back into the shops and found the gills were no longer available. They had become CITES listed. My heart sank. What had I participated in? It was a difficult research as I had only the gills to make identity. But with the help of an ichthyologist, and the context of the purchase, we were able to determine that they were probably manta ray gills.
I was broken hearted. These poor, majestic creatures were being fished to extinction for the sole purpose of providing a treatment to improve your skin, that was considered dubious, even from within the Chinese Medicine community. And so it was also true of the little seahorse whose remains were now bound to form the structure of her reproductive system. Indeed, these poor little sea monsters were being annihilated for their perceived value as a kind of Viagra.
My little dying bird that is all of us, was now being defined by the decimation of the manta rays, and the pleasure of our own procreation, was being based upon the unpardonable destruction of seahorses.
But next to this wounded bird lies a single egg made from corroded steel. Inside, is a beautiful little quails egg, with a surface of translucent sky blue resin, and etched with mosaic patterns. It’s sterling silver lid is inlaid with barnacles. On the inside, made from a pearl - created by an oyster’s need to defend its fragile body- lies a path to redemption: for a new and wondrous heart is just beginning to form….
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