I Heard It Was a Thorough Examination of the Innocuous

When I was a little girl, my mother and my aunt shared this coat. It held the power of grown-up womenness in the way the click-click-click of high heels on the pavement, or the snap of a vintage purse, conjure the idea of grown-up woman for many women of my generation. I wanted to own and to wear the coat. I thought that doing so would make me a real grown-up woman. When my mother died, the coat came to me. It had thread-bare spots and was so badly cigarette-smoke-stained that the dry cleaner said it was not salvageable. I couldn't wear the coat and hadn't the space to store it, so I was forced to examine the power the coat had over me. I had to come to terms with the reality that the coat in itself had only the power I gave it. The painting depicts me, in a conscious state (eyeglasses, smiley face) and my subconscious self (the snaky eyeball thing) examining the coat. My eye in the glasses shows the magic (bird) fluttering toward the coat, imbuing it with power. The magnifier has ears because when you invoke the subconscious for information you hafta listen very carefully for the truth (green).