Eve and Abel
When I set out to start my final semester of undergrad in spring 2024, and therefore complete an art studio capstone, I was met with overwhelming feelings of grief.
In the fall of 2023 I experienced a traumatic event that impacted me mentally and physically, and while things got better during the semester, I came into the spring and was greeted with a reminder of it. I spent a number of days in a constant spiral. Thankfully what had triggered it disappeared, but I was still left with memories and physical symptoms.
Beyond this, and far greater than it, I have also been thinking a great deal about the trauma in the holy land. My instagram feed has been filled with Palestinian mothers in Gaza weeping over martyred children, bombed homes, and unbearable grief. And while I am not a mother, nor Palestinian, I do not know how anyone could watch and feel nothing.
These two traumas, along with how they have affected my own campus made it impossible for me to start with a happy piece for the semester.
And hence, I painted Eve and Abel.
Eve and Abel, depicts Eve holding Abel’s body after he has been killed by Cain. The blood flows from his head, and seemingly into the clouds. I imagine this red sky is both the flaming sword at Eden and the weeping of bloody tears from God, the heavens, and Earth itself. The ground is dotted with poppies, and the brightest color is the yellow of Abel’s shirt. Even the sun is dim compared to his body.
I used glitter for the blood, the sky, and the flowers. It was both a test to see how much I could push the medium, and also a way to represent myself and my grief in the piece. Contrary to what is common for artworks depicting this event (at least those that i’ve seen), neither Adam nor Cain are present. Eve is alone on the plane.
Yet I do want to say that the sun is shining through. This is not Eve’s end, nor Cain’s, nor Adam’s. And while physically Abel’s body is dead, I believe his spirit lives on. Perhaps in that sun which illuminates Eve as if hugging her and burning her at the same time. It is both an “it will be okay” and “it is not okay right now.”
As I continue to grieve, I am holding Eve and this moment in my own time.
And in time I have to believe that things will change, even if it takes getting kicked out of Eden for it to happen.
In peace,
Xi
