Tension 03

The cocoon makers and their stories

1 Ann Morton

For the past 20 years most of my artwork has been fueled by the politics of war—both abroad and at home. This object is a combat military man wrapped in a fragment of a small American flag. With the current administration (2nd Trump), the fight in increasingly overwhelming. The words of this song by Suzanne Vega seem to fit:

"If war were a game that man or child
Could think of winning,
What kind of rule
Can overthrow a fool
And leave the land with no stain?"

2 Katie Berta

This cocoon contains 35 Hungarian Fonnts—the currency of Hungary—from a trip I took with my granfather, cousin, and sister in 2009. I chose this because my grandpa just died, but also because I identify my Hungarian ancestry with the persistent sexism within my family.

3 Heather Kirschner

A Token of Affection:A simple piece of jewelry received from a relative and accepted with thanks. What should be a thoughtful gesture becomes ammunition in ongoing conflicts. Was the gift appreciated enough? Was sufficient public gratitude displayed? How does it compare to gifts received from others? Assured repeated ad nauseum, perhaps it is best just to step out of the influence.

4 Heidi Bambauer

As I cocoon a handful of beans, I reflect on vitality, resilience, and the desire to remain fully engaged with life as I age. Beans, humble yet life-sustaining, symbolize energy, growth, and possibility. They remind me of the qualities I hope to carry forward: curiosity, joy, playfulness, and good health.When words fail me, I often turn to the poetry of Mary Oliver. Her poem Self-Portrait speaks to a truth I hold close—that aging does not diminish our capacity for wonder, love, or delight. Her declaration of being "still full of beans" resonates deeply, expressing a determination to embrace life with enthusiasm despite the passing of years.This cocoon holds both aspiration and vulnerability. It contains my hope that I will continue moving forward with spirit and gratitude, finding beauty in each stage of life. Like the beans within, I seek to nurture what remains alive, growing, and joyful within me.

5 Anonymous

"Friendship Facade." What do we do when we learn that a longtime and trusted friend is not who we thought they were? The friendship facade has finally failed, and they reveal their true selves making it clear that we don't (and maybe never did) share a similar world view or moral code. That remains of common ground feels shaky and superficial. It was a shock, like having a rug pulled out from under my feet and I asked myself, "who is this person?" What caused this sudden change of heart? Have they always bee this way? How could I have missed the signs?" Those big read flags that either I ignored or made excuses for at the time but can now see clearly n the rearview mirror. It took only a split second for them to betray my trust and break into bits the support network I have relied on for so long. It's time to wish them well, heal the sore spot in my heart, and move on ... one cocoon at a time. Thank you, Susan.

6 Val Hunt

Conceptual: a piece of paper with the words: "the past"The trauma from childhood up to 38 years of marriage, which recently ended is part of my past. I have replaced this traumatic narrative with a happy one. So I am not holding onto the traumatic past anymore.

7 Erica Faith Dyer

I placed a rock from Mayer, AZ in the cocoon. It represents the extra weight I've carried on my shoulders my whole life from being the listener, space holder, peacekeeper. The weight of single mothering, parenting my own oarent, caregiving for my Dad, being the leader and safe space holder when I didn't have the capacity to even care for myself is released, recalibrated and reset. As I call in this chaper of self-care and self-love, self-expression first and supporting others from the overflow versus gaining value from giving, giving, giving.

Here's to balance and harmony! <3

8 Anonymous

My oldest daughter, by her own admission, has been diagnosed as bi-polar. As a result over the last 15 years, her behavior towards me (and others in the family) has been erratic, mean and malicious. The object incased in this cocoon is a printout of just one text exchange—there are also many emails & additional texts—I hose the last text exchange that results when my phone accidentally dialed her phone because I had her in my favorites and had just called my husband. Innocent enough. But this type of occurrence that can giver her reason to lash out. Rehash the same complaints that she has nurtured & built into her truth for years. They never change—it is as if she must stew on it all day after day. Waiting for the chance to erupt. She has kept me out of my grand-daughters lives for over a decade, so I've missed years that I'll never get back—nor will they. My only prayer is that they might reach out in their adulthood to make-remake our connection. So here it is, an incapsulated portion of her anger—but it isn't really gone. I can't bring myself to delete these exchanges, hoping one day she might be in a place to truly address what torments her.