Effects of PTSD is from a chapter of my life that has been tucked away inside me since 2006. It wasn’t until 2014 that I decided to open this chapter and allow my work to be seen by others through my paintings. During 2003-2006 as part of being a military spouse, one of the many places our family was stationed included Ramstein Air Base in Germany. In 2005, I had the honor of becoming an American Red Cross Volunteer for Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. I helped the nurses tend to our soldiers who were wounded from Operation Iraqi Freedom, and Operation Enduring freedom. I was exposed to the soldiers’ wounds, both external and internal. I also learned these wounds never heal. Each day I volunteered there were so many faces, so many stories, and so many wounds of many soldiers. Using a journal helped me to cope with my experiences. This was my first encounter with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Anxiety, long endless stares, sadness, and depression were just a few of countless symptoms I witnessed at the hospital.
On November 5th 2010, PTSD became even closer to me than I could ever have imagined when a good Army friend of mine took his own life.
To this day I have friends who suffer from this disorder. Soldiers have difficulty after a deployment adapting back into society. They can’t sleep, take numerous medications, drive cautiously, or jump at the slightest sound of a loud noise. They struggle every day.
In 2014, I decided to depict my experiences at LRMC, in order to deal with their lasting effect upon me. I also wanted to draw attention to the reality of war, the suffering of wounded veterans and most importantly the continued struggle of PTSD. My painting series, “Effects of PTSD,” looks at the struggles of soldiers dealing with PTSD and the heartbreaking reality of suicide. More recently I have expanded upon the series by including a subcategory titled; “The Journal Series.” These works are direct illustrations of the experiences I wrote in 2005.
My medium of choice is dominantly oil, it allows me to bend colors more easily due to having a lengthier drying period. Oil works well in creating transitions of lights and shadows in my backgrounds as well as the objects depicted in a scene. To help in creating some of these transitions I use flat bristle brushes, sometimes a palette knife, or even my hands directly on the canvas.
I am greatly influenced by the tradition of still-life paintings and Vanitas; I am particularly interested in the symbolic narrative given to each depicted object. My paintings are composed with vernacular objects. Though easily identified, their symbolic value is indecipherable, just like the unknown triggers that cause an individual suffering from PTSD. In 2019, I began to explore more with different materials and techniques to help connect my content to the viewer. Some are out of my comfort zone, but the process and the result have been satisfying. I feel I can continue producing the subject matter and still communicate to the viewer, even though it may be a different process. I now realize there is no limit to the use of materials in order to express my topic.
I am grateful for my military life, including the time spent at LRMC. It will always be a part of me and someday the process of transferring my journal from paper to canvas will be complete. Utilizing different methods and experimenting with materials in this last year has enabled me to continue to bring PTSD awareness to the viewers. It has also brought me out of my comfort zone and allowed me to be more spontaneous in my works.
Common scene for the fallen but I've included the symbolic meanings of mortality and death with the skull, and the symbolic meaning of evil, or the devil, with the fly on the helmet.
The dog tags are the identity of the solider who wears them. I used my husbands' dog tags for this painting but I did not want to include his social security number. Instead I used the year that PTSD was first diagnosed by the APA, 1980. All of my paintings that include the dog tag will have the year 1980 on them.
I used this title due to seeing many of these medals being handed out to soldiers during my volunteering at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center like candy. Actual medal near the upper right hand corner.
The Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal and the Vietnam War Medal. The rest speaks for itself.
Skull = death
Book = Wisdom
Dogtag = identity
flame/fire = transformation
ribbon = Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal
fly = evil/the devil
dice = fate (numbers have meanings too)
purple = color of royalty (purple heart)
clock = time passing
A "normal" everyday view to civilians at a local store. Part of a diptych.
Part of a diptych showcasing the opposite of a civilians view of a local store parking lot. A combat soldier, or one who suffers from PTSD, will have a different view. The sense of a combat zone from destroyed buildings and vehicles, to people walking by, including items left by the road. Such items such as a paper bag could hold an IED, a Styrofoam cup could hold a cell phone used to detonate such IED. A pop can has been known to hold a bomb as well. All is seen in this painting.
“All that’s left as a reminder,
a triangular shaped flag,
your name, carved in white stone.
One bullet you chose was to blame.
Wish you knew how,
one bullet could claim so countless others,
who miss you.
Would’ve comfort you.
Could’ve helped you.”
LB
I used glow in the dark paint which can be seen in another photo to bring out the portrait behind the word “Invisible.”
Paynes gray, Yellow orcher, and Titanium White are the primary colors I use in my paintings in the series “Effects of PTSD.”
This series has generated from my “Effects of PTSD,” series of artwork. While an American Red Cross Volunteer at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center (2005-2006) in Germany, I would write in a journal about my encounters with the wounded I helped care for. It wasn’t till 2019 I decided to bring out the words in my journal and put them into art. It has been difficult, and still slightly uncomfortable for me to do so, but I’m getting better as I create a new piece. I guess one could call it art therapy.
“I met another soldier from OIF. He was hit by a roadside bomb. His unit was doing a convoy. He was in the second vehicle in line. The first vehicle was to detect IED’s. It unfortunately missed one and his vehicle hit it. He injured his lower left leg pretty bad. He was conscious the whole time he was being helped. His leg was so bad that his foot was literally facing backwards. The one thing about this that struck me was that this soldier took pictures with his own camera of all of this. He called them his “glory shots.” He showed me pictures he had taken in Iraq. The places, people, kids, and even when we was injured. He took pictures just before he was hit and pictures of the medic helping him. As we were talking he even took a picture of me. His leg was in one of those metal pin harnesses. He said he had at least 8 shots of morphine as well. He had a buddy who was injured like him as well and he told me that this buddy should be here as well. I got his name, asked the front desk where this guy would be and they looked him up-come to find out this guy was in the next ward. So this soldier asked me to go to his buddy and tell him that he would visit with him later. So I did just that and come to find out his buddy had a badly injured leg as well with the same harness. Only it was his right leg.”
quoted from my journal dated 2005
Part of a diptych about a wounded soldier I met at LRMC in November, 2005. This was not so much about the severity of his wounds, it was about what had happened to him on a convoy that led him to LRMC. This event has haunted me since then. Using only household, latex dishwashing gloves to apply the paint, no paintbrushes, I placed myself back to that day I met him. I expressed all the emotions, including my own, using just my hands.
second part of the diptych, “Everything Happens for a Reason.”
I learned at LRMC that certain wounds heal from the inside out. One soldier had a severely open wound on his thigh and it was stuffed with gauze. The sight was something, but the smell could knock one down on their knees. After that incident any time I walked into a room on the ward and smelled that stench, I knew someone had an open wound.
I met a soldier who was unable to get out of bed due to his injuries. I remember he was sitting up in his bed, the look of despair on his face forever etched in my head. He just received news over the phone from his girlfriend that she decided to end their relationship. All he wanted was a cigarette. I felt awful and helpless for I could not give him what he needed to cope with the bad news and ease his pain. I’ll never forget the pleading look on his face.
While volunteering at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center I met a soldier whose wounds kept him from getting out of bed. The hospital had a small Shopette located on a different level of the hospital. This soldier really loved blue Gatorade and every time I would stop by his room he would send me to the Shopette to buy him one.
“I met a soldier who has shrapnel all over his legs. He was a target of a grenade. In Iraq on duty a young child had thrown a grenade at him which of course exploded. He was okay and recovering well.”
quoted from my journal dated in 2005
“I met a soldier who seemed kinda frustrated with being in the hospital. I do what I can providing water, movies, etc. Not sure if he was just frustrated with the war or what. I remember he could not get out of bed. I remember him asking, “how can you guys put up with this place?” I asked if he met the hospital? or the country? He said both. Next day I met his mom. I escorted them down to Radiology. Had to move his whole bed. He was scheduled to fly out and needed an x-ray done first before he could fly. Sure enough he got the okay. So I helped get his things in order in his bag. With his mom by his side he was taken away on the litter. He last looked over at me as they wheeled him away, raised his hand and said “bye.” I told him to take care. I’m sure all his emotions were more towards frustration than anything else.”
quote taken out of my journal, 2005.
“I met a soldier who was shot through his side. His unit was on some rocky terrain and were under heavy gun fire. He was wearing all the proper gear but this one shot caught him just below his vest on his lower side and exited out his back, missing his spine. It was a clean shot, no damage to any organs. When he was hit I recall him saying either another soldier, or medic, dragged him behind a rock for safety. Shots were still being fired all around. I believe him saying that it was either an hour or two before the helicopter could come get him. He was conscious through this whole ordeal.” Quoted from my journal.
So in my Journal on this day I wrote; “Big news all around. Two journalists were hit by IED’S and are at the hospital. A popular ABC news anchorman, and a popular cameraman, were wounded. They were in ICU. Their families were here as well. This got such huge attention on all news broadcasts that it was kind of upsetting. This hospital deals with this every single day. But the media is never reporting it. When one of their own is injured it made cross-country news. I feel bad for these men for getting hurt, as I do for all soldiers. I just wish all soldiers got as much attention and were able to have their loved ones with them at the hospital as well. It just seems that they get forgotten.”
I love dragonflies, not just for their natural beauty but for the symbolic meaning behind them. They are known to represent a sign of strength and power. Along with their agility to move in any direction with speed, the dragonfly is also linked to living in the moment, living life to the fullest. The portrayal of change in maturity throughout life, which is something we all experience, acknowledging who we are, and where we are. The ability to adapt, to tackle issues, the ability to solve a situation, to accomplish and grow with maturity.
The way the natural world changes and regenerates interests me, there is peace and tranquility along with adaptation to a changing environment. A representation of life itself.
The background was done in reference to an American Still Life artist William Michael Harnett and his painting, "Old Models.” Some of my influences in painting come from 17th century genre of Dutch/Flemish still-life paintings, such as my PTSD series.
Starting from the top:
- mask duct taped: December of 2019 a banana duct taped to a wall gained a lot of attention and sold for $120,000. For me, as an artist, I felt it was a slap in the face to witness this as I struggle in my artistic career, especially when most of my works deal with awareness to PTSD. The mask was an important part of 2020 and worth more.
-extinguished candle: part of the genre I mentioned. A memento mori as one would call it, an importance of life and how it is short lived. This pertains to the number of deaths we have lost to Covid 19. In the smoke from the candle is a paw print dedicated to my husky "Willow" who passed away in August.
-"eliminated:" My position at work was eliminated this past summer due to Covid, losing my job.
-note with the number 13: I was born on February 29th, 1968, (leap year). I turned 13 years old this year, and then a few weeks later Covid hit.
-empty toilet paper roll: I think everyone gets the idea on this one.
-paper hanging off shelf: This paper is the "Relief for Workers Affected by Coronavirus Act." I've been unemployed since being eliminated and receiving benefits, although they have been paused for now (1/2/21).
-bottom right is a black paw print: This symbolizes Aspen, our new German Shepherd pup we adopted, and she has been a huge part of helping me in dealing with issues endured in the year.
-below black paw print: a pair of rings. My husband and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary in 2020. One we will never forget.
-bottom right corner: a fly. Goes back to the genre I mentioned, a fly can symbolize evil/ devil.
-far bottom right corner: the number 45 represents the PINO in connection to the fly facing it.
