"The Eyes Have It" - Susan O.W., Colored Pencil on Paper, 1991
"Heroic Adventure" - Scott Rouse, Oil on Canvas, 1993
"Corner" - John Brian Paprock, Pastel on Paper, 1992 Sometimes, even in an adult male body, my insides still react like this: it seems that nothing can be done, but cower and hope it will end soon.
"Contemplating the Shadow" - John Brian Paprock, Pastel on Paper, November 1992
"Can't I Be Heard" - Susan O.W., Colored Pencil on Paper, 1991 The molested child does her best to be “heard”- but she speaks softly and often in vague terms. Someone needs to listen. Someone needs to “hear” even the most subtle of hints that may mean the child is trying to “say” something. She may speak with actions. If a child doesn’t “want” to do- whatever- possibly there is a good reason. Her behavior may not be just a lack of cooperation. Years of devastation and heartache could be avoided if someone would at least ask her a question or two with a sincere and patient voice.
"Repetitive Mess" - Anonymous, Handwritten Poem on Paper, 1993
"Struggle" - Susan O.W., Mixed Media on Paper, 1991 No matter how hard I try, sometimes I just can’t cover up. In dreams, I often lose some of my clothing or some will be falling off and I’m trying desperately to keep it on. I hate public bathrooms. I feel sometimes like my clothing is not covering me. I think of how close to being naked a person always is. I hate that too. I wear myself out in dreams trying to think of a way to get home with no one noticing my clothes are missing. I feel as though my brains are exploding from my head, then left naked, exposed and unprotected. This drawing depicts, to me, ineffectual mental health power, ineffectual motor skills to protect my modesty and the resulting pain and frustration- losing my mind.
"Global Reform" - Susan O.W., Colored Pencil on Paper, 1992
"Tears Her In Two" - Susan O.W., Mixed Media on Paper, 1992
"Nothing Charming" - Susan O.W., Mixed Media on Paper, 1991
"Who Will Hear Me Cry", Jennifer (b. 1982), Handwritten Poem on Paper, March 1992 My brother sexually abused me when I was three years old and it was buried until January of 92. “Who Will Hear Me Cry?” was written because until recently I never had anyone that I could tell about my pain and anger. “No” was written because my brother abused me even though I said “no”. Poetry is something I use to express myself and to heal.
"Watching a Man at the Urinals" - Anonymous, Typed Poem on Paper
"The Roxy" - Vicky Escoe Kelly, Typed Poem on Paper, February 1992
"As Long As I Life" - Elizabeth (b. 1979), Handwritten Poem on Paper, 1992 One night I was thinking about the strong effects of my abuse. It really will take as long as I live to fully recover. It will be there as long as I live, but as long as I live, I can try to stop and heal and live my life as any other person would.
"Sometime I Wish" - Elizabeth (b. 1979), Handwritten Poem on Paper, 1992
"Untitled" - Vicky Escoe Kelly, Typed Poem on Paper, 1989 This poem describes the confusion and pain I felt regarding who and what I was supposed to be in my family. I felt sad after writing this poem, but it felt good to put these thoughts on paper.
"Untitled" - Vicky Escoe Kelly, Typed Poem on Paper, April 1990
"Poster" - Anonymous, Pen and Marker on Paper One of my biggest issues of my therapy work deals with that of abandonment. Although adoption is a socially accepted practice and children are often better off in the new family, the bonding process is sometimes incomplete and the grief of separation for the infant or young child usually goes unrecognized. This poster is a result of my own inability to mourn or even legitimize such losses from my infancy. It came into focus when I mailed a request for my original birth certificate. The voices kept saying, “If you had been good enough, she would not have given you away.” It has been and still will be a long and difficult process to learn that I am not to blame for the failings of my parents.
"Mirrors" - Dale Decker, Printed Poem on Paper
"Why, Daddy?" - Jennifer M. Adams, Photography and Written Note on Paper I can’t think of a better artist’s statement than this…it is a page from my diary from 1978. I was five years old. I wrote it with my favorite purple marker, it smelled like grapes. I still have the marker, even though it is all dried out. These photos were taken of me in 1978. The photographer gives his blessing, but wishes to remain anonymous.
"The Invisible Wound" - Elizabeth Sedillo-Tackett, Typed Poem on Paper
"Meditations" - J. Kay, Pastel on Paper
"Babies Eternal Love" - Colleen Catherine, Oil Pastel on Paper, 1992 When children see the senseless deaths of babies, it tears at the very fabric of their souls. So, to make some sense out of the chaos, a peaceful resting place for the babies’ souls is vital. Somehow, it makes the deaths seem slightly more tolerable. For me, the bottom of the picture shows the devastation of both the child and the baby being victimized. The top half of the picture shows the peace and love in God’s arms that the child hopes the babies receive after death.
"Metamorphosis" - Sandra Booth, Watercolor on Paper, 1992 Throwing off the Harpys Sloughing off isolation & depression Shedding self-blame. Casting off unworthiness Wriggling out of “otherness” Discarding shame. Transforming…
"On The Ceiling" - Carol McCullough, Pen on Paper, 1993 I felt God’s Eye watching me always. I feared Him and loved Him at the same time. I made my body float to the ceiling and turn over and over I worked every night to float over and over (I was proud of my secret skill!)
"Woman's Pain I" - Carol McCullough, Pencil and Found Object in Shadow Box, 1993 All I can say is that this is a peek into a fantasy world I lived in every night until very recently. It is not pretty, but for me, it was a normal state of mind. The surgical gauze and clips merely hint at other aspects of that fantasy world too hideous to show anyone– for fear of having them misused as erotica.
"Woman's Pain II" - Carol McCullough, Pencil and Found Object in Shadow Box, 1993 This image haunted me for too long. This man, primitive, cruel, wore girls’ babies like jewelry. He walked on corpses. He set women trembling and boys emulated his wicked ways, beating the girls and laughing. Like a looping clips of film, the scene replayed itself until I aborted it onto paper.
"Untitled" - Anonymous, Charcoal on Paper
"Untitled" - Anonymous, Charcoal and Colored Pencil on Paper
"Untitled" - Anonymous, Pastel and Acrylic on Paper
"Sexual Abuse: Splitting" - Joyce Fey, Pencil and Marker on Paper
"Grandpa" - Colleen Catherine, Pastel on Paper, 1992 After a therapy session, I realized that the abuse my Grandpa had caused was still affecting my life. The anger was tremendous. To deal with it I drew a picture of Grandpa, I wanted to see him hurt because he had hurt me. It took about an hour to think of all the different things to do to him. Being a non-violent person, this was an acceptable way of expressing my anger. I felt exhausted and calmer when it was done. When I look at this picture, I get great joy remembering the anger and the process of releasing it.
"Shame, Pain, Struggle" - Alice Ann Winn, Acrylic on Wood, 1992 This painting deals with the memory of one of my lowest points in life. I had experienced loss which is represented by the skeleton, and pain from accidents that injured my neck, spine and ankle. I was struggling to keep going, to stay afloat. The red pointing hand represents my shame about how I blamed myself for the early abuse that I experienced. I know now that I am not to blame. I am no longer stuck and struggling. This painting is simply a visualization of feelings.
"CHILDHOOD" - Carmen Pitre, Marker and Watercolor on Paper, 1986
"Abuse in Me" - Carmen Pitre, Watercolor on Paper, 1990
"Happy & Growing" - Pam, Paint, Tissue Paper, and Found Objects on Paper, 1993
"Despair & Dying" - Pam, Paint, Tissue Paper, and Found Objects on Paper, 1993
"When I Am Afraid" - Joyce Fey, Turquoise and Black Marker on Paper
"Untitled" - Anonymous, Oil on Canvas
"Resolution" - Nanette Trudeau Rasmussen, Wood Art Print on Linoleum
"Marilyn Monroe is Alive And... Well?" - Nanette Trudeau Rasmussen, Watercolor on Paper Women are still valued for their outer beauty and sexual attractiveness. But that outward appearance does not always fit with a women's interior, her feelings about her sexuality. This painting represents my anger at a society that stigmatizes a woman’s true sexuality.
"Skating Pond" - Petie (b.1981), Tempere on Paper, October 1991 A purple pond for skating Skaters wear masks over their faces like Halloween It’s so easy to fall through the hole in the ice You can’t see anything But Johna pulls them out with her pole and line– If she wants to.
"My Heart is Broken" - Sandra Booth, Watercolor and Paint on Paper, 1992
"Barbie's House" - Anonymous, Marker on Paper
"The Mirror" - Elizabeth Sedillo-Tackett, Pen and Ink on Paper, September 1980 Looking at myself in a mirror was always difficult. So as an assignment for myself, I decided to do a self-portrait.
"The Train Station" - Petie (b. 1980), Crayon and Colored Pencil on Paper, 1991
"Madonna Child" - Moira Cue, Oil on Wood, 1992
"Buried Alive" - Moira Cue, Oil on Wood, 1992
"Christian's Collage" - Barbara Bach, Collage on Paper
"For The Anorexics Among Us" - Anonymous, Pastel on Paper
"The Abuse Begins" - Colleen Catherine, Collage on Paper, May 1992
"The Abuse Begins" - Colleen Catherine, Collage on Paper, May 1992
"Something Frightening I" - T.C.R., Watercolor on Paper, 1986
"Something Frightening II" - T.C.R., Watercolor on Paper, 1986
"Sweet Life" - Colleen Catherine, Mixed Media Collage on Paper, 1992
"Two Self Portraits" - Barbara Bach, Colored Pencil on Paper
"I Want My Childhood Back" - Anonymous, Cardboard, Wood, and Paint on Paper, 1999
"I Really Did Live" - Colleen Catherine, Oil Pastel on Paper, 1992 The death of runaway children and children brought up in generational ritual abuse are rarely missed. They are sacrificed and their remains scattered. If you were to visit their burial spots you wouldn’t even know they existed. These children need you to know that they did exist. I did this picture with my non-dominant hand to help access my emotions. I had no idea why this drawing came out. Originally I was going to put scribbles for the names and dates. Yet, when I went to do it, a name and date came for each gravestone. Several weeks later, this picture became a catalyst for a series of memories concerning each girl.