Artwork Notes and Process:
A name brand epinephrine auto-injector made headlines for a while. As they’re prone to do, headlines change. It’s difficult, however, to forget what the implications of those news stories (about everything from questioning product quality to company commitment) mean for people and their families in real life. There are so many injustices in the world with which to have deep concern, and maybe that’s why we each hold a few specific ones close to our hearts—to keep them from disappearing altogether.
I don’t imagine that any one company is the lone perpetrator of all ill intent in system that’s already broken. Neither do I wholly begrudge capitalism. (In theory, such a system—one given over to people before bureaucracies—might be useful if, say, a government becomes so corrupt or self-interested as to not fight on behalf of those who need it most.)
What’s a struggle to understand is how for-profit companies can profit off the hardship and fear of others. Can life-saving medicine really be utilized properly if its value rivals or exceeds basic living expenses? Will it be around in enough quantity if disaster strikes or when effectiveness changes when exposed to changing temperatures? Will it always be remembered and be there when it’s really needed?
Does holding shares matter more than holding together peoples’ lives?
There is something to be said about monopolies being thwarted. You can make a specific point to buy the competitor’s product.
Artwork Notes and Process:
The posture of the man is somewhat relaxed as his elbow rests on the side of the boy’s throat. The man holds the auto-injector like a cigar. The line of the stock prices mimics smoke. The emblem on the cufflink is a percentage sign; the auto-injector features a dollar sign. A bit of blood stains the edge of the business man’s sleeve.
The boy rests on stacks of bills like a sacrifice on an altar. His teal shirt gives a nod to food allergy awareness as does his medical alert bracelet. A heart monitor line creates the silhouette of the Capitol Building, skyscrapers, a silo and barn, then a headstone, and finally just the faint and possibly dissipating heart beat.
Hidden in the wrinkles of the man’s suit coat are letters that spell a recognizable pharmaceutical company.
* Primary digital brush used: Wash 200 Watercolor Paper
Special shout-out to Kyle T. Webster and his pro Photoshop brushes which I’m grateful he (for no other reason than kindness) makes very affordable to artists who are doing their damnedest to afford to live and afford to work. People could learn a lot from that model of business.