© 1997 Sharryl Bryan

© 1997 Sharryl Bryan

“Fishing Hurts” 54” x 18” 2006, a collaboration with activist Lorraine Nicotera.

This is one panel of PETA’s “ Fishing Hurts Quilt” touring the United States in 2007.

Click Here to see the whole quilt and more information about this quilt and fishing.

Below is our story, written by Lorraine Nicotera.

A Fishing Story

 

The other day we were walking Sharryl’s dog over by the Boston Harbor where the fishing boats were docked. Their nets were rolled up and hanging off the sides of the boats

 

Though the boats were dormant today, it reminded me of times in my childhood.

 

Growing up on Long Island, NY, it was not uncommon to see fishing going on everywhere, for everywhere there was water.  In Freeport, LI, there was a section called “The Nautical Mile” where all the fishing boats would dock and bring up their catch to be sold to locals, tourists and restaurants.

 

My dad and I used to frequent the Nautical Mile a lot, and watch the fishing boats come in and haul out their catch of the day.

 

I would see them open their big nets and spill out hundreds or thousands of fish, crabs, shrimp onto the concrete, where they would then be clubbed to death, sliced open, decapitated, or just allowed to dry out and suffocate.  Not only the fish they wanted to sell were victims, but other “un-sellable” fish would be caught and left to die.  Fishermen would hawk their catch to the crowd, packing them in newspaper once bought, often alive or partially dead.  I didn’t think anything back then, I thought: This is just the way things are; but now I wonder what those fish hear and see as they slowly bleed or suffocate to death: crowds of people, talking, laughter, comments on their quality, tossed around, wrapped, total chaos, until the peace of death finally puts them out of their misery.

 

The fishing net is only the beginning of the horror a fish endures once it is caught.   No amount of "tasty" flesh can be worth what they undergo.

 

Lorraine Nicotera, email: HenQuest@gmail.com

 

Lying With You

After our first date you told your friends
"I will marry her".
I told my friends you were it, my destiny.
The music of my visions.
I thought together we could save
My canvasses, your harmonies
From the constant question:
Is this art for real?
And when we cried :

WHAT DOES IT TAKE
We could hold each other up.

Well, you held me up
Without a gun, just promises
And lies as thin
As new - formed ice.
Our bargain :
Unspoken Unwritten - Unknown?
I believed and
You let me
Skate upon the glistening
Bright safe surface of our life
Until I slipped and
A blade broke through
Then the blood - rage
Flooded, erased all
Until I woke on a cold bathroom floor
Heard your sobs outside
Sorry. Sorry. and
I forgot
You forgot
The ice closed in again.

Ten years
Of layered life
Lies on faith
Faith on lies
Ice cracking
Stopped wounds bleeding
Again Again Again
And then
The final shattering
When we saw through the layers
When we saw ourselves
And turned away. Screaming.

Now
Knowing too much
Knowing so little
Of all there is to know
I look at ceilings
Skies and mirrors
At the lids
Of my closed eyes
But no matter where I look, I see
Your red lies leering out.

(c) 1998 Barbara Ann Ahearn. (After the life and painting " July Lies 4" (c) 1997 of Sharryl Bryan)

 

Reconstruction

Seeing you across a cafe table
Looking in my eyes
The way you used to look
When we were man and wife.
Hearing your voice
So kind now
So vicious then -
I gave up understanding
Any of your words
And now -
I don't know true from false.

How many mornings
Did I wake alone
In our studio
Shivering with your absence
Then divorced days
Alone in bed
Not eating
Stomach churning
Thoughts tumbling
Over waterfalls into whirlpools
Of WHY.
Where was that theory that
would make sense of it all.

One year later
Still no answers
I take a kitchen knife
SLASH
Those canvases painted to the
Rhythms of your JAZZ
Those canvasses that had been
My life, My art, Our love
I shredded those lies
Like they'd shredded me.
And I used the shreds
To form a shroud. Our shroud.
Ripped and Jagged
Senseless Violent
As our life had been.

But even this
My reconstruction
Resolution of reality
Falls mute before my Biggest
Question;
Where to go from here.
This shroud says only
You can not go back.

(c) 1998 Barbara Ann Ahearn
after the life and painting "Reconstruction"
of  Sharryl Bryan (c) 1997

3.  Reconstruction

2. Lying With You

1. Fishing Hurts ...