Poked and Prodded

Artist note:  

As much as I don’t want to be defined by Type 1 diabetes, it is an important part of who I am. I do not remember life as a “normal” little girl; my earliest memory is being poked with needles like the little bear I was given by my favorite nurse. I remember her explaining all the different colored patches on this tiny bear, indicating the places I would inject thousands of needles overtime on my own body.

(full artist note found on laptop/tablet) 

ARTIST NOTE:

I have been high almost every day since I was four years old. As much as I don’t want to be defined by Type 1 diabetes, it is an important part of who I am. I do not remember life as a “normal” little girl; my earliest memory is being poked with needles like the little bear I was given by my favorite nurse as a way to practice giving injections. I remember her explaining all the different colored patches on this tiny bear, indicating the places I would inject thousands of needles overtime on my own body.

Managing Type 1 diabetes is a very difficult, frustrating, and time-consuming job. There is never a day or night off. It is a constant balance between living my life how I want and keeping myself healthy, both mentally and physically. Type 1 diabetes is a disability, a large obstacle to living like most people get to, but an obstacle that has given me a lot in return. Diabetes has made me braver in the face of adversity and mentally stronger.

I have been asked countless times “If you could choose to not have Type 1 diabetes, would you?” After a pause, considering all challenges and pain, I always answer “no.” I then explain to this very confused person that no matter how many times I have to poke myself; deal with heightened, unexplainable emotions; or feel ill due to the rollercoaster of high and low blood sugars, I will never take back the opportunities this obstacle has provided me.

As I mentioned before, I have been poked and prodded with needles my whole life. Needles are my daily, and the red biohazard sharps containers are never empty in my home. One day, after having to give myself a shot, I took a look in the sharps container and asked myself what I could do with all this waste? How could I find a way to represent the emotions that I feel when dealing with this side of diabetes? 

At first my idea was to have a small replica of my full body and have pieces of my diabetic supplies along with another object that could represent fragility, something that can easily break. The thought behind this art piece for me was that diabetes has forced me to be strong minded and put up a front of bravery, but at the same time to consider that it masks the parts of me that are fragile. This is where I got the idea to use resin because it replicates glass.

During this period I had a mentor who guided me through this process, and he helped me reconsider the idea of having the objects floating around, and to instead think about an intricate design encased in the resin. He also made me think about using a specific part of my body, not a full body structure. 

I made many testers with the resin and after creating multiple molds, I was finally ready to lay out the design of the final piece and pour the resin. When I created the design and poured the resign, the thick resin moved all of the needles, ruining my original design. I attempted to place them back, but during the curing time it continued to move. At first I was very upset with the result, but the more I looked at it and discussed it with my mentor and my family, I preferred the outcome over the structured pattern. Diabetes is not in any way structured.

Once completing the body piece, my mentor and I talked about other things I could create and that is when the idea of a necklace came up. Within a week I created the mold, adjusted it to lay on my neck, and had a photoshoot just in time for the final reveal of my independent study showcase. 


FINAL PRODUCT