When Madeline Eldridge broke up with a partner, she did not make her bed and lie in it – she tore that bed apart. The comforter, at least: she sliced it up, disemboweled its cottony guts, and turned it into a three-dimensional, skin-colored homage to her childhood cat, Ollie.

“Objects can be imbued with emotions from people – the way that our bodies tense up or relax or breathe,” the Morris-based artist said. “The comforter itself acted like a body. It soaked up the energy in the room that we cohabitated.”

Eldridge’s other “non-human” bodies incorporate fur from pets, hand-written notes, and other detritus of eras lived, lost and loved.

“It’s kind of taxidermy-ish,” she laughs. Especially when done in that skin-like tone, Taffy Twist, which was also the color of her childhood bedroom. That girlhood is a reference point for her work, too. The soft pink invokes play and youth, but the fabric surface, gritty and uneven, adds tension.

“The surface quality speaks to challenges navigating girlhood both socially and physically,” said Eldridge. “Some of these challenges are grotesque, embarrassing, and embedded with us, permanently shaping who we are and how we navigate gender identity further down the line.”

One of Eldridge’s most striking images is “Heffer,” a prized cow with its udders tied in red bows.

To Eldridge, even the act of making art is a conversation with physicality. “The practice and products that come from [making art] feel as automatic to me as having my own eyes to see, limbs to move me from point a to point b.”

What’s ahead?

Eldridge is exploring assemblages of ephemera and creating a feather-based piece to honor her grandmother’s and her pet goose, Daisy Mae.