Thomi Berdine McIntyre
Groton, NY
Thomi creates icon-like images of trees to make connections between personal truth and resiliency in the face of traumas both domestic and universal
Message
Thomi Berdine McIntyre was born in Buffalo, NY in 1973, and raised in rural northwest Pennsylvania on a small plot surrounded by Amish farms. Her early years were spent in the creek behind the house, the surrounding fields, and sugar maple woods. With her three younger brothers and books for company Thomi grew up out of touch with her generation and the “real” world. Encounters with the outside, primarily in school, were usually difficult - her upbringing and naïveté made her an easy target for bullies both young and old. These early influences have been fundamental to her path as an artist, both in her symbolic imagery and penchant for solitude.
Thomi earned her BFA in Painting in 1996 from Edinboro University of Pennsylvania. She had grown dramatically as an artist there and immediately followed with her MFA in Painting and Drawing from the University of Oregon in 1998. When her health started to be affected by oil painting and solvents in 1997, she was encouraged by her mentor, Ron Graff, to start experimenting with egg tempera. She took to it quickly, and most of her thesis work was completed in tempera. She was soon represented by the Margo Jacobsen Gallery in Portland, OR, selling most of her small egg temperas in a short time.
Despite such a strong start, her health continued to plague her and held her back from pursuing a studio practice, although she was able to work in several different design positions and became an avid quilter. In 2007 she took a dramatic turn and became fully disabled with an infant and a 7-year-old at home. The following years were an intense struggle for the whole family as she was repeatedly incorrectly diagnosed and treated with powerful psychotropic medications. Her creative life was deeply affected, and at times she was physically unable to do small knitting or sewing projects; for several years even light reading became difficult. In 2020 she was finally correctly diagnosed with cPTSD, fibromyalgia, and chronic neurological Lyme disease and began treatments. Although her health will always require daily management, she has made huge leaps and no longer lives in a fog of pain and fear.
As soon as she started feeling better Thomi’s family helped her set up a home studio and she dove back into her life’s passion. Since 2021 she has been focused on work which addresses trauma, the isolation of chronic illness, and how those intersect with the planet’s increasing instability both politically and environmentally. Thomi feels strongly that her journey, particularly how cPTSD has impacted herself and her family, is widely relevant and narrowly understood; that having come out the other side she has a rare opportunity to be a positive and potent voice for others who remain invisible shadows of potential.
Statement
In every life there is a truth. It is not necessarily profound or universal. It is not good or bad. It is a truth for that being, in their life, in their moment. As we search for meaning in our lives or a place in the Universe, what we really need to find, as sentient beings, is our own truth.
Truth roots us in ourselves and connects us to our place in the world. It anchors our perspective and perception of our time. When we are thus grounded we are more resilient in the face of conflict and abuse; more adept at processing traumas large and small without losing ourselves, our truth.
I have always found my own truth amongst the trees. I dip in and out of awareness through the seasons of my life, yet find that with each added ring my lapses are shorter and my connections deeper. I am never as lost as I was at 25, nor as found as I was at four.
My work exists in the space, often razor thin, between the hope and despair through which I have often moved multiple times a day. The physical layers of paint and the circles and rings of time document my dual truth as a creature of this world wrapped both in historic trauma and present day love. Image-stories from moments in my early childhood - both the magical and the terrifying - come forward and inform my present.
These images become as icons in their power over my narrative. I don’t think it was random that I saw hundreds of icons during a school trip to Russia in 1995 and it was at that time where I first encountered egg tempera. The very earthiness of the materials - egg yolk, water, powdered pigments - first drew me in, but the process suits my temperament on many levels. Slow and quiet, precise yet never static. I don’t find myself at odds with it, which frees me to respond without apprehension to the unfolding of my work.
Since 2021 I have been focused on work which addresses trauma, the isolation of chronic illness, and how those intersect with the planet’s increasing instability both politically and environmentally. I feel strongly that my journey, particularly the impact of cPTSD, is widely relevant and narrowly understood; that having come out the other side I have a rare opportunity to be a positive and potent voice for others who remain invisible shadows of potential.