The GlassBook Project

Alicia Velicky

Destroy My Pain

I wanted to portray how one's relationship/dialogue with God changes after experiencing domestic violence. I wanted to portray someone who is desperate for God to take the pain away and is relying on Him to do so. My glass book is a box that folds out into a cross shape. When it is in box form, around it there are images layered and partially ripped/torn apart to portray the pain being destroyed. The images consist of walls, boundaries, etc., along with escapism pictures like a castle fortress, island spots, etc. I chose these images because it seems quite a few victims of domestic violence tend to hide behind walls put up around their hearts and also behind fantasies or good memories of the past. When the book is in cross form, there is a dialog with God cut from magazine-clipped letters. It reads, "Please DESTROY all my pain inside my heart." This is someone's true account, and even though it's a simple phrase, I feel you really hear the cry of their heart.

Amy Kiger-Williams

Between the Covers

Quilts represent physical warmth as well as comfort, connection, and love—all things that are absent in a situation where domestic violence occurs. Quilts also represent beds and rest, and often for victims of domestic violence, beds are not a place of rest and renewal. I chose to cover my glass book in a quilt not only because of the irony, but also to represent how sometimes domestic violence can be hidden by a facade —sometimes things may be going on in relationships or homes, and others are not aware. This subtle and insidious quality that sometimes  accompanies domestic violence was something that I was interested in exploring.

As I was binding the quilt, I accidentally sewed a pin into the binding. That seemed to me to be the perfect metaphor for what I was attempting. The quilt looks cheerful and sweet, but you can see a small glint of metal at the lower right edge, and if you open the book, you need to be careful not to be pricked by the pin.

For the text of my glass book, I chose to use quotes from first-person accounts of domestic violence survivors. Although I pulled quotes from a number of different accounts, I tried to create a narrative that would be coherent and that could be interpreted either as the account of a single survivor or as a collection of quotes from various survivors. I varied typefaces, and printed the quotes on both paper and laser transparencies. My final page contains a quote that I wrote in my own handwriting with black paint, "Funny, at the time I told myself I deserved it." I found that shame and personal responsibility were recurring themes in most of the first-person narratives that I found, and I wanted to work with those themes as well.

Amy Ortiz

It takes a strong person to stand up straight.

The spine seemed to me the obvious choice for this project; its visual structure is rich in metaphors that elicit a raw response. When researching the topic of trauma and how it changes relationships, I immediately thought of the physiological effects of trauma on the body. These effects can  manifest themselves in the form of illness and/or alter the relationships trauma survivors have with their community, family, friends, and even their  faith.

The layering of the vertebrae of the spinal column, which support the frame of the body, visually reminds me of the layering of tension and repeated traumatic events. I have come to understand how the body internalizes psychological pain, inhibiting the healing of the body and mind.

There are instances when a survivor's pain and experience turn into rage. I specifically read about a woman who was repeatedly raped by her stepfather and rejected by her mother and community. The young woman's pain and shame spiraled out of control and resulted in the murder of her abuser. The question I ask: Could this have been prevented? Could people have intervened and offered her a solid support network? I am  confident that the answer is 'Yes.' Unfortunately, no such support was offered to this young woman.

When the external support structures in a survivor's life are missing, the internal support structures suffer. For example trauma can change posture and the way a person walks. They may carry their bodies differently— either in a protective stance or in an overly aggressive one. In other  instances, survivors are left alone to work through their experiences, which may reinforce their sense of loss, solitude, and lack of trust.

Andy Coste

Special Days

One of the worst things that can happen to an individual in a relationship is to have a special day ruined by something, let alone someone. Someone smiles and gives thanks for receiving flowers on Valentine's Day. Hands are placed over the mouth to hold back the joyful tears in the middle of a proposal. Ears are placed on a belly, listening carefully to the baby he helped create. No one expects anything horrible to happen to these special days. Idealistically, you expect these days to be your happiest; realistically, these are the days when people are vulnerable to disappointment. Spousal abuse can happen on any day, at any time.

Fortunately, there are many brave victims who stand up from the rubble of abuse and continue to walk and live a new life, fresh and healed from the past. I wanted to bring out some of these days and reveal what it will be like to have an unfortunate event happen on what was once a delightful day, and how to overcome it in the end.

On the glass, I wanted to make it very simple and to the point. When someone gets abused, I keep thinking about scars and visible scars. This is shown on the right side of my glass panels where I fractured the right side of each one. The glass is placed back together with white tape. The white tape symbolizes a bandage, which in turn means healing. The tape is placed over a part of the broken glass to show that it is trying to hold the pieces together as much as it can. The tape also represents these special moments and is shown in different ways. Each tape is carved or cut and shaped into the special event it corresponds to. The text is drawn in sharpie so that each day can feel personal and not as industrial as it would have if I applied a clean and computerized type.

When people are feeling down about anything, they usually revert to the 'good times' in life. It's not the abuse that happens on those special days that a victim remembers, rather the fact that they got to experience those special events first. Taking the experiences and learning from them is a form of healing for anybody. I custom-made black frames for the glass compositions to enhance the feeling of the event being a memory that will be remembered for a long time.

Armin Tolentino

How She Learned to Hide the Stars Insider Her

Kimberly, a contestant on the popular show America's Next Top Model unexpectedly quit the competition midway, claiming she wasn't "interested in the whole fashion thing." Later, she revealed that she had been in an abusive relationship and prior to joining the show, her boyfriend committed suicide, a death for which she shouldered much of the blame. Grieving and guilt-ridden, she couldn't focus on America's Next Top Model and instead invented an excuse to leave the show.

I was immediately drawn to her method of coping, to how she learned to hide her trauma and how she must have suffered such backlash from people who assumed she was just too unprofessional or ungrateful to be a contestant on the show.

I started with her original words and began to unfold hidden permutations embedded within her explanation. I've questioned whether it's right for me to appropriate her words, but I hope this reworking honors her courage and ability to survive.

How She Learned to Hide the Stars Inside Her

I. To be completely honest, I don't find it interesting. I don't believe in the whole. I'm just being honest. It doesn't interest me at all.

II. I don't believe I find it interesting, to be honest. To be whole doesn't interest me.

III. I don't believe I'm being honest. I'm completely in the hole.

IV. I don't believe in me at all. I believe in the hole I'm in.

V. To be all I believe in… to be completely whole…

VI. Find me.

Barbara Borges

Exposed

I really wanted my book to focus around a powerful concept and let the visual aspect of the book develop from there. I came across an entry on an online blog called Violence UnSilenced*, which sheds light on the epidemic of domestic violence and sexual assault by giving its survivors a voice. What stood out to me the most in this entry was the notion that not all survivors of domestic violence have visible scars. The quote, "the parts of me that have shut down and stopped caring, the parts of me that have hardened over time, covered in that invisible scar tissue…," provided the powerful
voice and visual that I was looking for.

For the physical components of my book, I chose to use black acrylic paint applied thickly onto each glass page in order to create texture. The words spoken by the survivor are scraped out of the paint. Covering each black painted page is a sheet of clear glass, which serves as protection for the painted glass below. I chose black paint for a few reasons, primarily because I wanted the pages to be mostly opaque. The material hardens over time but also gives the book a sense of a void.

The clear glass covering functions as layers of protection for the paint as well as a metaphor for the numerous layers of scar tissue built up over time that become barriers of protection for the survivor. For that reason, I also chose to reveal the text only within the deeper layers of the book. The choice of fabric represents a kind of skin for the book. I decided not to use the fabric to cover the book physically but instead to lay the fabric out and place the book on top. I felt it was important to reveal the nature of the pages, allow the light to shine through the clear pages throughout the book alluding to the act of exposing scars.

Belmira Silva

Metamorphis

I have found that words are not enough to explain things related to what is felt. In my opinion, words can never quite get to the crux of what I really want to say.

So, to began this journey I put myself into it a little blindly. As a number of survivors shared their experiences, I gained several interests. I was initially interested in how survivors see themselves after the abuse. As the search continued, I narrowed it down to one single emotion. Nothing quite hit me like rage did. I was surprised at now difficult it was to find first hand fragments from survivors on their anger. The most natural of  feelings after suffering seemed to be nonexistent. I was interested in seeing how that rage channels into what the survivor feels about themselves or the abuser. The difficulty in the search pushed me to wonder; "Why is only the abuser being related to rage and monstrosity? Doesn't the survivor feel that too"?

One blogger caught my attention. As she recalled her experience, she described herself as a monster undeserving of even being pissed on. Convincing herself of this, she coped by exerting her anger upon herself; it began as apathy and grew to rage. She broke out of that cycle and then created a list of affirmations. She reminds herself of what is important to her and why she survived, why she keeps on surviving.

I wanted to show that transition visually. I needed a portrait. So I drew one of myself, as I reminded myself to consider being in the shoes of the survivor. The subject looks directly at the viewer through a layer of clear glass, the first layer. The second layer is of the monster and anger. I did not think of anything in particular, I just allowed my hand and eyes to mark the glass. The third layer is the leaving of that stage and returning to taking care of yourself; even if it's as simple as putting makeup on again. The third layer is that of affirmation.

With a simple smile ultimately, when it is genuine, one can feel at peace. The monster is gone.

Chris Caruso

Why have twelve-inch squares of glass etched with words wedged in between the pages of psychology
books?

Good question. I wanted to visualize the survivor's words trying to reach the outside world, but also show how these words and desire to define the self are fighting against clinical categorizations of the self.

How does a survivor co-exist with a world that either doesn't acknowledge what happened or know how to deal with the violence experienced?

A tension exists when the survivor attempts to reconcile his/her experience with the world by making the voice audible. It is hard to let words explain emotions, changed views of the world and the things in it, and changed feelings about the self. It is harder to try to process all he/she has been through and to explain that thoughts and feelings sometimes collide, making the survivor mute and silent.

There is also the battle between the survivor's attempts to define him/herself outside the labels given by social scientists and psychologists who treat and try to explain how the survivor should feel and how the survivor should act and process the world.

It is these continuing conflicts that this book explores.

Eleonora Luongo

Stories We Tell Our Children

My book attempts to explore how the stories we are told as children affect how we think relationships should work. Often, fairy tales are set up with an innocent (a child or a beautiful girl) who is then put in peril and at the end is rescued by some outside force (usually a prince or some other powerful hero).

I wanted to take the familiar dangers and suppose that instead of a 'hero' coming in from the outside, the survivor is often left on their own to make sense of their situation. I also wanted to question the easy 'happily ever after' endings that most modern versions of these stories conclude with—endings that quickly erase all the trauma the protagonist went through once this outside hero swoops in to save the day.

I was immediately drawn to the idea of using the forest as a metaphor for the entire experience. The book is constructed as a flag book. I was attracted to this idea from the beginning because of its possibilities for multiple meanings and ways of reading it and also because of its similarity to pop-up books I read as a child. I wanted to give the book the feeling of a real children's fairy tale book, but the use of glass also allowed me to play with the theme of the forest as both a hiding place and a place of danger that the protagonist escapes from. On one side of the flaps, readable when the book is standing up or through the glass accordion spine, are snippets of actual fairy tales strategically viewable 'through the forest.' The illustrations are from a book of fairy tales.

When the book is opened up flat, the flaps connect in a way to show this poem:

Stories We Tell Our Children

Go hide in the woods.

Beware the forest's shadow; it will never leave.

Twigs and underbrush splinter, enter into
the skin and swim through blood
becoming one, but don't worry; your bones
will ultimately reject them.

Here are your savior princes:
The knife that cut your umbilical cord and sent you out,
alone, into the world.

The fingers (your own) that knotted the remaining coil,
even as the blood was still wet.

Is this the happily ever after?

There is no magic potion,
no crumbs
in the road leading home,

can you learn what no one tells you?

Be careful now,
in the trees' shadow.