_posted in art | dayedayerocks | filmschool | lessons learned | 24 January 2011

At the opening of the year I emailed an artist whose work I really wanted to feature in my latest short film: Lwa, A Chorus of Voices. We finally connected Saturday morning and it was one of those rare moments you have with a complete stranger that makes you feel safe in sharing your art, safe that people understand what you're creating.

Cozbi Cabrera creates munecas, lovely handmade dolls with vintage fabrics, clothing, quilts and illustrates. I linked her to the Kickstarter page to give her a bit of background and why a film about Haitian Vodou. While she was excited about my "voice" and what I'm exploring, she was hesitant to share a muneca for a film about Haitian Vodou.

At the very moment she said it, it clicked in my head that it's one of the stereotypes that I never honestly thought about... Vodou Dolls. There, of course, are many stereotypes about Haitian Vodou I actively want to counter in my film, by not even addressing them. I'm so far from removed from them, but the truth is, the majority of what people know about Vodou are the stereotypes. And Cozbi's experienced that. I saw the muneca, as something precious to my protagonist, Odessa. It would be a treasured thing given to her as a child or gifted to her on her 16th birthday. Cozbi's experience with vintage dolls has been wrapped in people's stereotypes of race and culture. Her concern is more than valid.

As an artist I completely respect her point of view. It goes directly to my own thoughts about creating and what responsibility one has to what they create and how it lives in the world. It also speaks to holding one's ground on what they will actively participant in as an artist. Yes, I could have just ordered the doll and not given her any inkling of what I was planning to do with it, but what kind of artist would I be in that situation? I would get what I want at the price of another artist's convictions.

She explained that in the past people quickly attached a meaning to the dolls (e.g. Vodou dolls), when they have real meaning on their own. This I can appreciate. This I can understand. So no custom made Cozbi muneca. However, she offered up a wonderful solution. Cozbi will be designing a quilt to decorate Odessa's bedroom, a quilt created with vintage fabrics. For Odessa, it can be a tie to her past, her family and her country. For me, it's connecting with a like minded artist, finding support in unknown places.

Cozbi's willingness to find a solution to help me in creating my vision was heartening. It was a necessary moment when I'm stuck in the the realities and details of filmmaking, like hiring crew, dealing with fundraising, all the while holding fast to the voice of my film. It's a nice reminder that in all the extra stuff, the universe gives back just a little to remind you that you're doing just fine.