Tethered

A public artwork by Cameron Farn 2019 - 12 Pieces at ¾ Life Scale, 1 Artist Proof, 1 at Monument Scale 

– Bronze, Gold Leaf, Ombre Patina. 

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It had never touched my mind. The idea that mental health issues would ever rear its head to look both my wife  and I straight in the face and say, “be still now, this is going to hurt just a little bit and forever.” Diagnosed with  severe depression, finally realizing a pattern of self-medication and distress, allowed long buried past traumas, to  be pulled through a fog of emotional barriers and be released. The space they had once taken up, where they had  soured the soul, could finally claps into a more restful, scared, but healing shape. My wife suffered in silence for  years before she was ever diagnosed. It makes me so low to think I missed every sign, every nod or secret glance  which would have let me hear a whisper of her need for help. 

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My wife has been so strong, for so long, I had forgotten just how vulnerable she truly could be to the shifts in what  some would call everyday life. She had been immersed in a stifling quicksand, struggling to move forward, arming  herself when she could with good information, medication, family and professional support. But there was one  more seemingly immovable barrier. It was me. Now, of course it seems so obvious, but then, I thought it was just  who I was, who I had always been, it was just the way I did things. Bursts of creativity, long nights of working,  boundless enthusiasm, a quickness… a sickness. 

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Our conversations about mental health had always focused on my wife’s needs, her acute perceptions, ultra sensitivity and empathy. She is a woman of deep feelings. She knew before I ever had, that I was a part of an  unstable poisoning atmosphere, which wouldn’t allow her room to breathe...I fought it for a long time, but it was  undeniable. I was Bipolar and I was part of the problem. Our household had been a battleground, one illness  feeding the other, it was shameful that I had not seen it, dealt with it or would even acknowledge it. And so, I  surrendered. I followed her hard-won example and sought treatment. I am Bipolar, with a thought and processing  disorder and ADHD all which effects an understanding of letters, numbers and time. In fact, this section of writing has taken me over 4 hours to compose and type, using multiple spell checks and various tricks to recheck and  recheck. Now, knowing what we are fighting means we can arm ourselves with tools to manage our oddities...to  be better too, and for one another. This piece is dedicated to my wife, my family and friends who manage metal  health issues, care providers and loved ones who remain the tether between sickness and health. It can and will  get better. 

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The ombre patinated figure is long and lean, stretched and pulled like taffy with an unstoppable upward  force. The arrow or inverted anchor head dress is fixed to the figure with heat patinated spikes, like a  lasting and relentless trauma, as its wing like forms provide lift in an invisible breeze. Golden spikes rest  in each hand, frozen in positions which lead the observer to question if they are being removed or  inserted. Is the figure in a state of hope or a state of despair? A golden tether connects the figure to a  grounding stone, its weight fixing the figure in time and place while on the edge of impermanence.