This is the OtherFish, the little guy in the tank without a label. Strange but beautiful, it swam alone drifted in the water suspended well above the alien foliage of the coral filled tank floor where the other species of fish thrived and nowhere the surface where the rising bubbles from the filter escaped into the fluorescent ceiling. I felt a strange connection to this Other Fish, the one who simply drifted quietly and motionless amongst the rising bubbles, separate from its fishy friends and yet watching them in its solitary mood. An outsider, unable to rise and escape like the air that rose past it, both physically wishing it could and looking awkwardly at those that are like but not alike and thinking about drifting nearer. Caught in an emotional and physical limbo but in a way, the other fish is where it's supposed to be. Solitary and comfortable with who it is in that moment.
When I saw the OtherFish where it drifted, lost in the space of water I felt a strange kinship and I just wanted to draw that moment, that connection and feeling. Leaving out the escaped bubbles and the fish that were similar to each other but different from that one. I later learned that this fish is called "Old Wife" and it's often found in in pairs or as a large solitary individual. The fish's name was derived from the grating sound that this fish can make when stressed, something I think is quite unfair to the fish and also quite telling about whomever named the fish. This beautiful and solitary scaled friend, made a sound and unlike the unlabeled tank it lived in, it was labeled for eternity as an old wife simply because of a sound it makes when stressed as it grinds its teeth. If someone had picked me up out of my comfortable habitat, or touched me without my permission, I'd grind my teeth with stress as well as have a few choice words with that person. No wonder it likes to live only with another if its own or in solitary, it knows just how cruel or biased others can be. Labels aren't always great, sometimes words hurt and to this fish than a grating sound and a name that defines it by that a sound it doesn't even make all the time. This fish was named by the sailors who were able to catch, back then, all the sailors were male and I imagine with their crude naming of this cute little fish, their wives weren't very happy with them either. I much prefer the scientific name Enoplosus Armatus, which is Latin for Armed with Weapons, because this fish, like all us girls has a hidden arsenal to protect itself. Sometimes, we have to be the Other Fish in the sea, the one who protects itself with its sharp spines and venomous fins or words. Sometimes, I'm like the Enoplosus Armatus, more comfortable in my solitary way of life drifting from artwork to artwork, safe from interference of those who would do me harm and strangers with hidden intentions or words spoken behind my back. There's a safety and blissful calm in being happy in one's own solitude and a certain freedom that comes from being to choose who is in your life. Art and the support of those who purchase my art, give me the chance to choose and to me that's invaluable.