Artemisia Selena Shaw

[artemisia selena shaw]

ARTEMISIASELENASHAW




CALL ME A NAME
» KILL ME WITH WORDS «
. c h a r a c t e r . i n t r o d u c t i o n .

full name; Artemisia Selena Shaw
nicknames; Artie, Misia, Mimi.
age; 22.
gender; Female
sexual orientation; Gay.
job; Mixed-media performance artist.
face claim; Molly Ringwald.

FORGET ABOUT ME
» IT'S WHAT I DESERVE «
. b a s i c . p r o f i l e .

likes; Her welding torch, femmes, video art, Mickalene Thomas, Canadian beer, installations, clean youth hostels, sculpture, theatre, traveling, dogs, Dworkin.
dislikes; Prohibitive structure, postpostmodernism, American accents, students, running, Mexican food.
fears; Abandonment, imprisonment, aesthetic boredom.
overall personality; Brazen, bold, and bloody pissed the fuck off. At least, most of the time. Artemisia – or Artie, as she vastly prefers – would be content to live her life from place to place, moment to moment, piece to piece. She’s the kind of daughter who comes home when a filling falls out. She’s the kind of sister that gets you into trouble because at least you should have known better. Still, she could not picture her life without the keystone that is her family, nor would she want to; though generally at least several thousand miles from them at any given time, they’re her strength. Of course being so far from home has never made her any more polite, and like the art she makes from a few tools and a lot of found objects, she feels infinitely malleable, shaped by site and situation, reworking and reworked as she travels. With the same unstoppable curiosity that drives women from her mother’s family, Artemisia has an impetus to seek out things that are new and exciting and sublime – but at a completely different angle to her sister Ursula. So here, LA, this bright, wide, American city choked by smug and smog alike, she’s perched for a moment.

I WAS YOUR CHANCE
» TO GET OUT OF THIS TOWN «
. a . l i t t l e . e x t r a .

home town; Chiswick, London.
biological mother; Hypatia Shaw née Hare.
biological father; Matthew Shaw.
siblings; Ursula Veronica Shaw, Arthur Edmund Shaw.
significant other; N/A
history; The second child of a London barrister and his sharp-witted textile merchant wife, Artemisia was raised in the stifling mix of love and shadow due a second, later child. A nebulous, but powerful, shift between clinging friendship and spiteful envy dominated her relationship with her elder sister growing up. They’d be playing one moment and pinching the next. Never one for outward faith, Artie’s spiritual life grew laterally as she discovered a creative streak that grew with her parents’ indulgence and support. Her early hobbies as a child included crafting dolls and beading jewelry, some of which are still displayed around her parents’ house – except for her early bracelets, which were cannibalized to provide materials for some tentative, if unsuccessful, metalworking, which is part of the reason for the long scar across her left palm. Still, undaunted, she’s moved from medium to medium as she’s grown and finessed. Accepted to the Royal College of Art when her sister left to study medicine, it took eighteen months and an awry Brick Lane performance piece – well-received, though the write-ups were a little shaken – for her to leave the academy and pursue her art elsewhere. A difficult and debilitating fear of flying has placed Artemisia in the unique position of standing on the deck of more than one day-long ferry ride. Europe was easy with its abundance of train travel, but Ireland, India, and eventually New York became longer trips than she intended. As such, the half-wrecked car that has taken her from Montpelier to Portland and back is perhaps not the best means of travel for the safety-conscious. For LA with its impetuous need for personal transport, it’s a downright hazard. Still, for all its faults, she’s spent more than one night curled in its backseat in the middle of a windswept desert or building-bounded parking lot. But for all her affectation, she’s just too middle-class to fully escape the comforts of her upbringing.

As for friends, they end up changing with the season, as she’s never in one place for too long. Her friends left over from her short stay in art school shift in and out of her life on occasion but are generally preoccupied with their own scrabbles for success. Similarly, she's had a fairly short sexual history; a string of interruptive and unhelpful boyfriends ultimately ending with a man named Tom whose chain-strung dual nipple piercings would have been terribly macho had he not resembled a Prada bag, then a woman named Cressida who had qualms, and finally a woman named Pandora who didn't. Now she’s back to her natural state, unconnected, unconcerned. After a quiet visit in San Francisco and an abortive housing situation, Artemisia has installed herself in Los Angeles to be a part of the gallery scene for at least a year and establish a complete body of work. Of course, now that a morbid, ancient anachronism has been brought from the British Museum for display (along with a mummy, Artie’s been told), it might make the city a little too distracting for her work.

BUT I DITCHED THE CAR
» AND LEFT YOU TO WAIT OUTSIDE «
. f a c e . b e h i n d . t h e . s c r e e n .

your name; Hazel
how did you find us; Referral.
role playing experience; Ten years off and on.
contact; AIM: Fevvahs

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[DAISY]

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