Monstrosity Project

Artist Statement

Creating this project was an exercise in therapy. I needed to take time to process 2020… and the previous four years for my own mental health. Each one of us who has paid any attention to the president has endured his abusive language of constant lies, gaslighting, racism, sexism, and narcissism. It isn’t enjoyable to think about it, but, as I’ve found with any type of trauma, it’s important to acknowledge what we’ve been through -- to recognize, to remember, and to feel it all. Every step of the process serves a purpose of learning and healing from it.

So I’ve taken some of his stabbing words, and I’ve carefully stabbed and stitched each one. I believe that in doing so, I’ve given his words more time and thought and care than even he did. Because I believe that words matter. 

Researching precisely which words to include was the darkest phase of the project for me. I felt overwhelmed with how to even begin, how to organize. I decided to go with a half-ass chronology. If you look carefully through the notes, you’ll find some dates that jump around -- I’m an artist, not a historian after all. But the steady stream of Trump’s abusive rhetoric was (and is!) seemingly endless. I realized that I could make this into a lifelong project, but I’d very much like to do other things with my life. So I began on September 1, 2020, and I gave myself a deadline of one month. 

Unfortunately as the days wore on, Trump kept talking. I felt like I might drown in a swirling sea of his Tweets and rambling voice. So about halfway through the project, I adjusted: instead of strictly embroidering, I would also hand-letter in ink to make my deadline. In choosing colors, I gravitated to red & blue, not only as a cue to our political parties, but also to actively avoid green, the color of life. I don’t find his words to be life giving or hopeful in the least. For some of Trump’s most jarring quotes, I specifically chose a bright red embroidery floss -- specifically brand DMC 666 -- with respect to Jesus’ words in a red-letter bible contrasted with Trump’s words in the number of the devil.

As I worked, I angrily realized that I could be working on any number of beautiful projects instead. In a month’s time, I could have created a hand-stitched heirloom quilt! Then, it sadly occurred to me that, in a sense, this monstrosity *is* an heirloom quilt. Trump’s words and actions are not just affecting us now, but the resulting suffering and deaths will be felt and passed down for generations. Instead of making a security blanket, it’s a blanket of his insecurity.

I began piecing together the panels of fabric, and I deliberated how to finish off the project. I toyed with the idea of spilling one of my coffee cups on it, or leaving stains of red wine as a nod to the long hours that I often stayed up. I pricked my own fingers numerous times throughout the ordeal, sometimes drawing a drop or two of blood -- and I felt like just smearing it right on. I also considered leaving the last panel of fabric open with an unfinished raw edge as a not-so-subtle warning that much more could be added in the future. 

But as an act of faith, I kept the fabric clean. I carefully pinned and neatly ironed and decided to enclose all of his terrible language. I completed the project on October 1, 2020. Late that night, we all learned that he tested positive for the virus. The timing felt like a cosmic affirmation that it was the right decision to put a bookend on the project, and to finish it off well. It didn’t feel necessary to me to quote him any further. 

I do hope that he fully recovers. Perhaps, if nothing else, we might see him face justice for tax evasion. And while it feels great to be done with this project, the real work is not over yet. Let’s vote him out.

Tamara Harper, October 2020