Save me a Secret
42” x 7” x 7”
“Secrets secrets are no fun unless they’re shared with everyone.”
Our culture has a complicated relationship with secrets. We consider them dark, scandalous, tantalizing, or nefarious. Ever since we adopted the digital tools in our pockets allowing us to communicate instantly with the world, we’ve developed an addiction to oversharing, so much that we think nothing kept secret is valid or even real (“pics or it never happened!”).
With this wall cabinet I wanted to explore the sacredness of two taboo things in western culture: secrets and femininity, which I believe are intertwined. Each of the six doors is locked individually, covered in a foreboding black India ink finish, only to reveal an ordinary, unassuming oak interior. [cont’d]
The number six is important here, as the whole piece is built around a 6:1 ratio. The number six is an evil number in the Christian church (mark of the beast, anyone?!). Six is also considered the most feminine number in other numerologies, related to nurturing, mothering, and Venus, the goddess of love. A major sixth interval in music, popular in Romantic era compositions for expressing tenderness and sentimentality, consists of nine half steps, nine being the feminine ratio in the Greek classical orders of design (these are largely related to musical relationships). Somehow I don’t think the feminine number becoming synonymous with Satan is a coincidence. [cont’d]
I personally experienced a culture of oversharing in evangelicalism, when having something deeply vulnerable to share at every weekly small group and every public speaking opportunity led to reward, celebration, and even promotion to more significant roles in the community. Withholding any information or life story from your pastor or superior meant you did not have a pure heart. Keeping something secret could quickly disqualify you from your (sometimes salaried) leadership role or give you a permanent reputation of spiritual immaturity. Here’s my hot take: If a member of the community is allowed to have secrets, they become more difficult to manipulate and control.
I also experienced the suppression and demonization of my feminine spirit in the Church. I’m not talking about the cottagecore, white bread, Little House on the Prairie version of femininity (notice how completely childish and compliant this version is?). I’m talking about the feminine spirit that is bloody, seductive, wild, hypnotizing, simultaneously holding the deepest pain and greatest ecstasy. This feminine spirit was deemed dangerous by the Church from its founding, and the taming of my own inner shrew began from the time I was just a child picking out clothes to wear to church youth group that wouldn’t “cause my brother to stumble.” Yes, even as a child, I was considered dangerous. [cont’d]
Secrets can be used for harm. But mostly, secrets create a place called intimacy. An inside joke with your bestie makes you feel seen and connected. Remembering that new thing you tried with your partner last night as you glance at them across the dinner table - the closeness is felt though unspoken.
But don’t forget the secrets we keep with and within ourselves. That dream just beginning to form, like a newly conceived child still too delicate to announce to the world. Learning the ins and outs of your own body and pleasure before anyone else does. A breathless moment in nature that only you were there to witness. Something is lost when we try to exploit these secrets and share them before their time. [cont’d]
As for me, I am learning what it is to have secrets with self; that I have the right to keep some things hidden until their time, or forever; to feel the weight of my integrity when I believe or experience something no one else will quite fully understand.
To lock something special away behind a plain dark door to which only I hold the key.
I am creating within me a place called intimacy.