Hi
I’m Kimi Weart. I am an artist, environmentalist and person with invisible disabilities. I am 53 years old and I am starting over.
Once I was an artist. I showed in galleries and a couple of museums, but I’m not going to attach a CV because I officially stopped in 2007.
I had two invisible disabilities that were getting significantly worse: temporal lobe epilepsy and essential tremors (shaking of the head and hands). I could no longer remember what I was doing and I could no longer make what I wanted to. So I turned to other things. Things I greatly enjoyed. I designed, I wrote, I made a children’s book for the Museum of Modern Art. Then in November of 2023 I went on a new medication, the barbiturate Primidone, and everything changed.
Barbiturates are no joke. I feel like I’m always a little stoned, or what they call “couch-locked”. I stopped being able to write, design, illustrate or participate in community organizing. Those all take enormous concentration as you are making a thousand tiny decisions every moment. But in the inverse of disaster I found miracle, as for the first time in a decade my hands were steady enough to make things again.
On this website is the work I have made since March of 2024. My work has always dealt with animals and environmentalism, perhaps because my body has never felt particularly human.
Life and the boundaries of what I can do keep shifting. In 2025 I gained two new conditions that have forced me to course correct again and again. I think of it as navigating sand shoals: you never know when your boat might run aground, but then you just push back off and try again.
Get in touch
A moment on invisible disabilities:
Many people do not think much about invisible disabilities—epilepsy, coeliac disease, lupus, narcolepsy, to name just a few. Conditions rise to the level of being a disability when you must create scaffolding around your life to do the things that abled people do without thinking.
I believe it is important to talk about invisible disabilities. Many think that only those with obvious physical conditions qualify. But the symbol of a person in a wheelchair does not represent us all. We must honor all those who struggle mightily behind a smile to do what others can so easily do. I’m not even one of those who must struggle mightily.