“Some of us, that day, she led inexorably through the gates of death. Some of us, innocent and unsuspecting, took, unwillingly, that one last step to oblivion. Some of us took very little sugar.”
⁃ Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in The Castle.
“Blackwood” Third in my Shirley Jackson series - though I’m tempted to reshoot the first two since I have grown so much since starting it. I waited a year to do this. I waited patiently for the blackberries to grow again in the yard. I snipped each stalk, pricked each thumb, said hello to many bumblebees, and ate quite a few berries during the making of this. There is, quite literally, a lot of my blood in this piece.
Creating this work felt like weaving a spell that Merricat Blackwood would be proud of. This book means a lot to me as does all of Shirley Jackson’s work. The way she writes speaks to my soul in a way that is hard to articulate. She knows every secret magic, every ghost in the walls.
I feel a kinship with her books, I try to do what she did with my own work, making something that is still but somehow alive, something quietly vicious, beautiful, and unsuspecting. Something that makes you look twice and not see the same thing each time. I hope that Shirley would be proud of this piece. I sure am.
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