Lisa Sadler

In Being and Nothingness (1943), Jean-Paul Sartre brings Medusa into his world of existentialist philosophy. The ‘pet- rification in in-itself by the Other,’ he says, is "the profound meaning of the myth of Medusa". The Other here is any person who looks at another, making the recipient of the look, the in-itself,” feel objectified– deindividualized– to the extent that his subjectivity has been petrified.

Medusa represents the objectifying look, the gaze, of the Other, that which objectifies and takes away Self. If one looks at something, Sartre says,”the one who looks is the center of consciousness.” The one who looks controls the world of a particular scene. But if, while looking, the looker is looked on by another, he becomes not only a being in and for itself but an objectified self for the Other. In this case, that Self that belongs to the recipient of the look is different from the Self seen by the Other, and, as Hazel Barnes in “The Look of the Gorgon (1974) explains: “The Other’s Look reveals to me that I am not alone in the world.” That might be all right in itself until I realize that now “the world is no longer my world.” In short, the Oth- er’s look might deny my own freely organized world, therefore reducing me permanently to a hard stone-like object.

The only solution to this problem is to assert one’s existence by making the self-defining choice of looking at the Other and, in so doing, neutralizing what is symbolized by the Gorgon’s life-denying look. This is the existentialist’s understanding of the only possible role of the post-Roman- tic alienated individual.” David Leeming, Medusa: In the Mirror of Time, 2013, 60-63.

Lisa Sadler

What inspires you?

My mother, my dreams, and the earth are what inspire me the most in my life. My mom was the sunshine that brightened everyone’s path that she encountered. Her encouragement and her love are the main reasons I push myself to succeed in everything I set out to do. Although she is no longer physically with me, her essence always consumes my mind and my psyche, and her wisdom is often whispering, continuously reminding me who I am.

My dreams are the representations of which I connect my past and my future. Searching out their purposes and correlating ancient tales from long ago, my life is a deja vu’ of reflections of memories trying to find their way back home.

The world and everything within it, nature, and its life-force, the beauty, and the peace are my inherited possessions of aspiration. The way the trees soothe my soul and clear the buzzing of irrelevant happenings that I often get caught up in - and the wind that makes the leaves dance and sing with the birds and their song.

What do you do when you are creatively stuck?

Usually, when I am creatively stuck, it’s because I am exhausting myself, or I am following someone else’s vision. The latter of the two is the most difficult because usually, it has me examining my artistic ability and brings my self-esteem way down the rabbit hole. My art is an extension of who I am, how I believe, and where I came from. To overcome these barriers, I usually need to pause, cut off from the world and everyone around me, and exist in the moment. Sometimes just sitting outside and being in nature is the best remedy to clear my head and help me focus. Other times, I need to remind myself of who I am and readjust my reflections.

It’s when I stop trying to satisfy everyone else and start catering myself, that I get back into my groove. My thesis on Medusa started with a dream. I was visited by this beautiful woman that came to guard me, her face was a mask of plaited hair like a snake, large braids that blanketed her skin, and her eyes, were penetrating and piercing blue like ice. I searched her out in ancient writings and was reminded of the similarities. How so many different religions and myths share the same account or a variation of it. I spent the year gathering everything I could find, and the primary focus led me to a different narrative. This was a tale about empowerment and protection. An ancient story about a beautiful high priestess that safeguarded the temple of the goddess Athena and how the patriarch attempted to defile it. Not only was it about empowerment and liberation from the gaze of men, but it was also about discovering who I am, and the masks I wear to live this life.

My work evolved into hundreds of eyes, protruding onto the viewer, making them now the object of the installation and powerless; and I created a snake out of my uniform I wear in my other life, my mask that I put on to gain my power. The further I examined all aspects of the stories and meanings that had been hidden or changed over the centuries, Medusa appeared in everything I came upon. She was everywhere, and she was not the monster that man had made her out to be, but the protector of us all.