Micro-Macro
Nicole Follin
deCHEMpression; clay, wood; 16 x 14 x 11”
October 14–November 11, 2022
November 4th, 1991, my life changed forever. It was the beginning of my sophomore year in college. I was changing my major to Environmental Science, life was challenging for many reasons, and stress was at an all-time high and compiling rapidly. I had just turned 19 and suddenly had an AVM brain hemorrhage on the left side of my brain and slipped into a coma.
Almost a month later, I woke up with the same spirit trapped in another body. Since then, it has been hard to communicate, and my vision is compromised, leaving me only able to see half of my eyesight in each eye, as you'll find represented in many of my pieces. Because of that, communication continues to be a challenge.
An RN nurse, Nancy Wolf, was good-natured and supportive. On the weekends, she would bring art materials for patients to doodle. When I was discharged from the hospital, she gifted me the book, Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain. Her influence on me and my creative expression was huge, and I am deeply grateful for her. It was very healing. And ever since then, I've been hooked!
1994, I moved to California. Soon, I started taking classes at the College of Marin. I dreamed of being an art therapist, but due to my brain injury, the academic part of the program was too challenging, so I decided to focus only on art. Sculpture and hands-on art were the most satisfying ways to express me.
In my works, the sculptures will sometimes take on their own shapes. This can happen through something as simple as the pressure of my hands or something completely out of my control, like the firing or glazing process. There have been many happy and some not-so-happy accidents throughout this process. But, as my hands dance with the clay, I find a way to communicate and express how I see and experience the world. This process is sometimes joyful, painful, or disturbing, just like life and the world around us. I'm always captivated by the interaction between myself with the clay. It's as if I'm not entirely in control of what is created. I now find beauty in the mystery of what the final product will become, as if something came through me of its own desire.