My
relationship with the HIV/AIDS community began in the summer of 2003. As I
listened to people express the ways that living with AIDS changed their lives,
my life began to change. What I heard was a collective voice of wisdom and
humor, healing and hope, and a perspective on living and dying that challenged
my beliefs and pointed to a path deep in grace. I began to keep a notebook and
pen close at hand, so I could jot down the things that people said, along with
the first name of the person who said it. As my collection of sayings grew, I
became aware that my little notebook contained a treasure, and I wanted others
to hear the message and be touched by the spirit of my beloved HIV/AIDS
community. So I began to create collages based on the quotes, each piece serving
as a visual interpretation of a phrase that had been spoken.
Collage
artists love to salvage, and old windows are a particular favorite "find" of
mine. Therefore it seemed appropriate, for several reasons, to frame each piece
with a salvaged window. First, the windows (which I clean, but do not repair,
paint, embellish or change) are unique, weathered, marred and beautiful - just
like the people whose words they frame. Second, a window provides a way for us
to "see into" another person's space. These windows allow us to "see into"
another person's experience, another person's soul. Third, windows remind us
that although we may be separated from one another by things such as culture,
gender, or experience, we can choose to communicate as through a window, thus
gaining a new understanding, and perhaps a new compassion, for those who we
first perceived as "different" than ourselves.
It
is my deepest hope, through this body of work, to accomplish at least three
things. First, I hope to honor my beloved community, to honor their courage,
humor, wisdom and spirituality, born out of immeasurable suffering. They are my
heroes. They have changed my life. Each and every day they choose to live their
lives on purpose, and in so doing they challenge me to do the same. In short,
they help me see the face of God.
Second,
I hope that this work will introduce the HN/AIDS community, in all of its rich
diversity, to the wider community. Even after 25 years of living with the AIDS
pandemic, misconception, fear, prejudice and hostility abound. I believe that
the AIDS virus is here to teach us, as a human family, how to shed our deeply
rooted fear and judgment, and embrace a way of grace and compassion. The people
who are living with HIV/AIDS are prophets in our midst. If we are willing to
listen and to learn from them, they will -by their words and their example -
teach us how to live and how to die.
Third,
I hope that this body of work will open up a dialogue between the HIV/AIDS
community and communities of faith, many of which are failing to effectively
reach out to those living with this virus. Once again, fear and prejudice
abound, especially because transmission of HIV/AIDS sometimes involves sexual
contact and/or substance abuse, both of which are labeled as "sin" and lead to
harsh judgment and even condemnation.
Yet
I believe that a closer look at God and scripture challenges us to reach beyond
both fear and prejudice with courage, humility, and compassion. As an artist who
seeks to embrace and live the teachings of Jesus, I believe that the Incarnation
insists that we no longer separate ourselves into the categories of "us" and
"them," but rather invites us to see ourselves as no different than our brothers
and sisters who are infected with HIV/AIDS. If the Church hopes to have a
relevant place in western society in this millennium, we must begin to genuinely
embrace Jesus' message of radical inclusion - especially welcoming those persons
who are most feared, despised, and marginalized. Perhaps the dialogue leading to
that new understanding can begin here, with this body of work, and now, with
this community.
Lois Wilson
