Sarah Snider
Bio
I am a great lover of poetry, magic, mystery and science. I am passionate about sharing what I know about herbs and herbal medicine.
She/Her
Stories (20/0)
Snip Stitch Snip
I majored in studio art in college, I had always loved being creative and it seemed like the right step to take. Painting, photography, printmaking, drawing-all these art forms were ones that I longed to be better at. I practiced hard and gained considerable skill, but to be honest, what I was the most exceptional at was the process. Sure, I could take a good photo, but I was better at developing the photographs. I could come up with a good idea for printmaking, but I excelled at the tightly controlled process of actually making the print. I thought it was more fashionable to be creative and come up with genre shattering ideas. Skill always seemed like a silver medal, nice, but not great. This was also a time where I was exploring my place in the world without my parents directly at my side, seeing who I was in the scheme of things. After a little adjustment, it turned out I was a minty fresh feminist artist. There's a brashness that comes with that first step, a kind of grabbing of rights, an insistence of recognition and equality. Those days are important to every woman that experiences them. It's the lighting of a fire. I shunned traditional female roles, don't want to cook? Don't. Don't want to wear skirts? #pantsforever. No bra? Done. Those first changes are like a vibration altering all facets of your life and sometimes are more black and white than they need to be. I don't judge that woman, she had sass. Art is a wonderful way to discover yourself. Art finds you on the surface-shimmering and obvious, and it finds you deep inside where you are sometimes afraid to look. I thought that my art had to reflect the new me, a visionary, someone who only looked forward and not back. Then an assignment came: use traditional "women's work" to express yourself. I was so angry about it because, to me, it meant that I would be turning back the clock on all the progress I had made and doing the things that I thought I wasn't supposed to do any more. I'd already thrown off those shackles, why the hell would I put them back on willingly? Sewing, knitting, crochet, that all seemed so anathema to me and the person I was becoming. It didn't matter that when I was younger, I found washing and ironing my mother's vintage doll clothes so pleasing. It didn't occur to me that designing art house clothing for my Barbie dolls and sewing them by hand was anti-feminist. I didn't even think about how my friends and I would make colorful scarves and skirts and bags and dresses so we could stand out in a sea of girls dressed in clothes from The Limited. No, this project, for some reason, was a threat. I did it, of course, it was an assignment after all. Though I barely remember, I think I made boudoir pillows and embroidered witheringly sarcastic sayings about 'a woman's place' on them. *Dust Hands* Feminist mission accomplished.
By Sarah Snider3 years ago in Humans
Mother
I am first aware of my mother as a sound, a touch, a feeling. Most of what I know of those soft early times are not my own memories but photographs and stories. I know I was made in a haunted hotel in Colorado. I know that people would pat her belly and sing the jingle, "Nobody doesn't like Sara Lee." I know that I am made of pully bread with pineapples and cream cheese. I know that after I was born, she would laugh as I laughed. I know that she would coo when I would coo. I had love and grace and joy and realism to grow with because of her. I know that as I grew up, I would be lucky enough to get to witness a woman with power.
By Sarah Snider3 years ago in Humans