Prologue

In 2014 I lived on the outskirts of Brooklyn, with my husband, a houseplant named umlaut, and an ugly, yet reliable, rabbit-shaped stain that had made its permanent home on our bathroom ceiling just above the tub.  Every now and then, the rabbit would suffer from some sort of unknown malady, resulting in the slow but steady growth of a tumor usually (but not always) on his right hind leg.  Gradually the tumor would swell, causing the rabbit to sag at the middle, until eventually the compounding pressure would grow to be too much, and the whole thing would burst wide open.  The ceiling, the rabbit, and tumor would be gone. 

Water would pour from the plaster, into the bath where it would trickle slowly down the drain, having little to no effect on our neighbors downstairs or, evidently, to the building as a whole.  Consequently, it would take weeks, sometimes months, before the superintendent would pay us a visit to fix the leak or, more often than not, stuff newspaper into the gaping hole where the rabbit had been and patch over it with drywall and paint.  It was a temporary fix when we needed a permanent solution, but at the time we didn't seem to care.  We were too busy trying to make it, to pay much mind to anything else.  Too busy making art, making money, making our stupid dreams come true, that we barely noticed the rabbit up there dying, then living, then dying again.  He was just there, our moldy spirit animal, bound and determined, and much like us, stuck in some never ending cycle believing some day he'd win. 


About

Following my marriage to my husband, Michael, I was inspired to create a body of work documenting our lives together as husband and wife and the nuances of our day-to-day experiences. While admittedly ordinary and uninteresting in their premise, I had hoped it would evolve into a thoughtful portrait of intimacy and the merging of two lives.  Just months after beginning the project, however, my husband and I, facing growing economic hardships, made the difficult decision to leave our Brooklyn home of ten years and move to Colorado to live with my parents. The short stories and images from Year of the Beast, attempt document our experiences, as we come to terms with the illusion of adulthood, surrender to our notions of independence and try to achieve some balance between dreams and reality. You can follow the story as it continues to unravel,  here or on Instagram