Ashley MacLure

Timeline is a series of drawing done in succession on a scroll measuring roughly 10 feet long. It’s a series of drawings that have been transferred over and over to emulate the act of remembering. I worked from the present backwards in time. When adding color I recalled completely from memory patterns and colors reminiscent of my childhood; china, patterns on clothes etc. I moved slowly backward with color until I was back in the present with image of my daughter where I incorporated coloring book pages and imagery of imagined worlds.

8”x 10’ Mixed media

Play Doh dries and crumples and cracks as it dries. It is a fleeting medium. Each piece is made using Play Doh accessories where Play Doh is rolled, squished and ruffled. Drawings are photocopied and then transferred, sometimes painted over using ink.

I’m nestling images of my daughter in the relief style sculpted Play Doh, but over time the Play Doh fails to hold her just as I will be unable to protect her forever.

The past is a person. It is my mother.

The future is a person. It is my daughter.

I am the present.

By experimenting with a variety of conventional and unconventional media I’m able to process my experiences. I have known abandonment, neglect, fear and incredible sadness. But I have also known abounding joy and gratitude. As I continue to reconcile my past selves and my present as a mother, my daughter becomes an icon of hope. I apply Play Doh, ink, collage, and photo transfer. Using techniques in this way allows me to process my childhood as I move forward through motherhood.

The following pieces are a visual journal for my daughter Mattina. They are a cataloguing of our activities during quarantine 2020. They are a collaboration using her finger paintings as a surface. They serve as an exact snapshot of a moment in time.

Dear Mattina

You are the daughter of resilience and hope. These are for you. Sunflowers and ice-cream sundaes on warm days. Uncertainty. Finger painting and hugs on the kitchen floor. Desperate prayers.

The little moments that I wished would last and the fears that keep me up at night. Quarantine 2020.

These are moments captured in time just for you my baby goose.

Please don't forget me.

I’m so proud of you. You are fierce. You are strong. You are good.

Love, Mommy

I experienced a pregnancy loss in the winter of 2017 and I was met with a variety of responses-- the overwhelming feeling I got above all the others, was that this happens all the time, but no one talks about it. People are excited to support you in your pregnancy, but very rarely in your grief because it's uncomfortable for other people to bear. I learned a long time ago however, that keeping everything in only hurts people. I decided to be brutally honest with my imagery no matter how uncomfortable it may make some people.  After my miscarriage, I felt like my body had failed me somehow. I had this notion that if I couldn't produce babies, I was less of a woman. I now know that all of our journeys to motherhood look different, and none are shameful. They are all beautiful. 

2017- 2018

Some of these pieces were created using oil, and others are mixed media using transferred photocopied home photos. With each one I explored a variety of peeling and gluing to mimic the nature of our memories, and in order to represent my own hazy memories from childhood.

2010-2012

Experiments with printmaking. Using the motif of the house as a toy block.

Permanence

2021

In the fall of 2021 I took a Ceramics course where I explored the connection between clay, permanence, memory and story. Each piece is another glimpse into the legacy of my mother’s story, and subsequently, my daughter’s story. My mother’s abuse, my neglect, and the fierce love I have for my daughter.

I’m open for custom orders and commissions. Please see artwork for pricing.

I require half the cost up front as a deposit.

Shipping is included in the cost. I do not frame, but can make recommendations.

You will receive a date for completion of the project. Projects typically take 2-3 weeks to complete depending on the season.

Without realizing it, my mother taught me: 

Light can be found, 

Pain can be endured 

And there is always hope where there is love. 

My entire life she suffered, and we endured in silence. My mother was mentally ill because she was molested as a child. Over the years, she told me everything. She killed herself in 2012 without a real opportunity to tell her story, because she was shamed into silence by those she loved. Now, I’m telling stories of pain and resilience through my work. Without shame, without fear and with purpose. 

Thank you mom for loving me through all the pain, the sorrow, and the hurt. These are for you.

2016-2017

I never want my daughter to doubt how I felt about her for one second. I’ve been creating portraits for her to look back on. Made with care and great purpose.

I’m always drawing.

“Imagine” is a picnic table design for Milford’s first Brush 2 Table public art project. The Milford Cultural Council chose 11 artists to paint tables that are installed throughout the town’s public spaces:

To my daughter Mattina: Imagine a world, my goose, where you can be anything and do anything.

To any child, who like me, felt lost or neglected, remember you can be anything. You need only imagine it.

This table started as an illustration about the magic of reading. And like everything I make, it became a deeply personal project: a collaborative piece by my daughter and I that she can visit in years to come. The table and clouds are painted by her, and the integrated drawings are mine.

My daughter Mattina loves to finger paint, and read and play pretend. She is my sun. Her Grammy, my mother, took her life almost ten years ago. After a long struggle with mental illness, she left me no explanations or reassurances. For Mattina I want there to be no doubts how I feel. Someday when I die, she will be left with piles and piles of drawings and paintings- all love letters to her.

Mattina, you are loved. You were wanted. You are everything.

The second project was inspired by the prompt, Trash-to-Treasure. An image of my daughter and I are nestled among flowers. I am lying in a dark bed of petals, while my daughter is among castles and light floral arrangements. This transition is about the breaking of cycles.

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I am a Christian that grew up in an American Baptist Church. Amidst purity culture and incessant guilt, I’ve spent my whole adult life trying to gain back autonomy over my own body and personhood.

You are silence, cowardice and shame. I had no voice, yet you were quiet. I bare the past without apology. I am a vessel for purposeful creation without shame or fear. I will disrupt your reality with the truth. This will be my salvation. Everyone will know how mental illness leaves a mark. I will unveil these memories. It will be a baptism. I will be left clean.

For this series I painted only from memory. I pulled from very personal, dark memories I can recall vividly of my mother.