Even Muddy Rivers Flow (2023)
Here on canvases, both scavenged and unfinished, referenced by “revision,” painting acts as a way to connect the past, present, and future. As a metaphor, rivers have a similar effect as they are in constant motion. For me, the profundity of art is in the process. I don’t think a work of art is ever finished, but rather chosen to be “realized.” It is similar to looking at an old yearbook picture, where you are the work of art.
None of these canvases were blank or bought, but found either in the trash or on the street already marked with texture, color, or rips. Therefore, each canvas brought about its own set of challenges where I had to make use of what the canvas had to offer. I am reminded that beauty is in the imperfect, that within the broken, dirtied, and unrealized, epiphany can be found.
Abstraction is so much of what we don’t see in reality, however feeling or synapse that I believe we all experience yet do not have the ability to articulate, an expression of the spiritual. The intrinsic nature of this spirituality is in the process of the painting’s making, where the presence of the artist is required until the artist decides to call a work finished. Art is the artifact of the presence of the artist.
I am continually reminded that art acts as a lens between universality and singularity. Furthermore, with the gift of perspective. For what I don’t see, you may see. In this exchange, I believe art has the capability to be prophetic. An artist’s role is to be the reflection of society, to expose the nuances of tonality that is witnessed, to repeat. While a river appears to have the presence of stillness, peering in, we realize it is not.
Walls (2022)
These paintings were “constructed” on top of drawn grids. Inspired by the idea of reclaiming the flat image in the face of a digitally aged world of NFT art, I wanted the visual sensation that the layers of paint create. Allowing the paint to dry, and contemplating the next move, the chemistry of the borders, edges, and spaces resonated stories conjured by the color relations. The physicality of painting with all its imperfections is what drives me to choose painting and in turn create poetry.
Broken Heart Paintings (2022)
These artworks were constructed and “built” on grids that I drew. After the grids were built, I pasted cut up hearts that I had from my days working as a resident assistant for my college. I didn’t realize the correlation between these literal broken hearts and my breakup to my ex boyfriend at the time. It shows how art imitates life.
Flying Fires (2021)
These artworks are called the “Flying Fires.” I painted these canvases in New York city over the summer of 2021 on the rooftop of my apartment building in the upper east side. The images were inspired by blue sky, arial views of the city, lush green backyards behind the neighborhood buildings, and hot weather. The title of the series, “Flying Fires” arrived from the idea that these pictures were born from colored “flames.” These dabs of oil paint I place on the canvas by intuitive means act as inspiration, improvisation, that morph into language. The mark making travels throughout the different sections of the composition creating a scene. Completely from my imagination, understanding each “word” from the language gives way to specific arrangements, certain decisions. The marks typically begin looser, more organic however conclude as being more geometric. I wanted to create a pallet that was cool in the face of the heat we had this summer.
Below is the timeline of when the artworks of the series were completed, starting from beginning to end. The number next to the blurbs indicate the number of canvases I was working on at the time of its making.
Moss Dream was the first artwork I created for the series. 1
Pixel Blue was the second artwork finished. It was the quickest and I believe the most enjoyable to paint from start to finish in this series. I made it in about two or three sessions. It began reminding me of being under the sea, however I feel like it lives in a world all to it’s own. 2
Love Game was the third finished. I initially was worried about the pallet of this artwork. The purple and lime greens are a strange choice in pairing, however whenever I looked at the artwork, I couldn’t find anything wrong with it. My rule to completing these artworks was abiding to my “theoretical” knowledge of composition and materiality while disregarding my personal taste. Could these two things be separated? 3
Saying Too Little was also an artwork that was relatively easy to finish. It was an old, red painting of mine that I never managed to complete. I typically use canvases that I find in the trash, especially from my art school days being a resident assistant. However, this canvas I had claimed for my own before I actually finished it. 3
No Matter II was a painting initially from the “Fractals” series that I never finished. It was pink and white and lended itself to being a great ground color. The artwork ended up being a landscape and deeply resembled the original “No Matter” from the “Figments of Imagination” series. 4
Broken Wing was initially a canvas I found in the trash. I was intrigued to paint on it however I thought it might be a challenge as it was heavily textured. It ended up painting itself. I followed along the lines of the original images imposed by the collage that was the surface of the canvas. I thought the sparse, dark blue mark making resembled a flower or a wing. 5
Spirit Heart is the most unique artwork I have made in this group. Initially I wanted to name this artwork “Spirit House” but my partner told me that it was too “Legend of Zelda.” I agreed and replaced “House” with “Heart.” I thought the name was suitable as it was created alongside a song of mine called “Battle of Heart.” I enjoyed the sentiment that the heart could be a house, with rooms. 5
Spacekeeper was the second to last to finish. I initially thought this was going to be the most challenging artwork to finish, however it came out second to final. Granted this canvas was the last to be started, it had a heavy texture from the original painting to combat with. This artwork looks like a mirage of rooms, and different spaces. It was telling of my physical position of being on a rooftop and seeing all the windows to apartments in New York. 2
Saying Too Much was the last artwork to be completed in the series. This artwork was going to be called “Never Ending” as I could never seem to finish it. Something was always off about the composition and I am still not sure if it is finished. However, I feel like it does what it needs to do in terms of showing a picture and sharing a story. One of the last painting sessions for this artwork was conducted out in the rain. The frantic nature of trying to paint before the rain got heavy made for some interesting artistic decisions. I felt as if I was “tagging” or painting graffiti. 1
What Has Been Left (2021/2019)
Sometimes the nature of creation is to destroy. In painting, whenever I find myself without a place to go, I cover everything up in a sold color, typically with white. I see what remains and work with what is left. Saying this is one thing, but actually doing it is another. It is scary to let go of what you have built but holding on only limits you to what you know. To grow is to let go.
Children Drawings (2020)
I created these pieces on the cold floor, in the early mornings of December in front of my childhood home’s sunroom door. I was inspired to create these works after spending a week with my new born nephew, Alden. Traveling back to my childhood home from staying with my brother and his new family for the holidays during the time of Covid, was a humbling experience. Inspired by baby Alden’s curiosity and during the time of quarantine, I had time to go through old works that were unfinished, old items, and materials from my high school days. These utensils: highlighters, pens, sharpies, and crayons became a staple for these pieces. It made me think how I was like a child concocting these images with these tools. The colors and forms created were not dissimilar to that of actual paint. Lucious, rich, and bright, they’re a welcomed contrast from my inherit pallet of earth tones. In a world where we want the best and newest, this time of Covid that has made me revel in the things I already have, hopefully with the magic of a child’s perspective.
Season Paintings (2020)
These works are called the “Season” paintings. They represent the idea of where things were and where they go. While I was living in Virginia briefly from March to June of this year, 2020, I found these unfinished drawings from high school. I cut these drawings into smaller pieces and viewed the drawings differently, as landscapes. Going into them with graphite and colored pencils, I created theses abstract, surreal scenes. They began to remind me of Hieronymus Bosch’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” with their suggestive forms and bright colors mixed with pastel flesh tones. These paintings revealed that my headspace is different from where it was when I first created these images back in high school. They’re smaller and with much more paint, heavier.
Temptation Drawings (2020)
Upon my experience on apps like Grindr, I’ve gathered a collection of these “dick pics” that strangers sent to me. I was compelled to draw these photos and memorialize them, or the people these photos belonged to. These images symbolize my desire for connection rather than sex. We live in a replaceable, cancel culture world, where people aren’t willing to talk with someone of a different belief. Apart from desire, I felt the need to share these drawings only to express my pain as a non-binary individual when it comes to finding love. It is harder to be a minority in this regard as a lot of these men fetishized me during our exchange. We live in a strange time of dating apps, pornography, and instant gratification. We all are either temptation or the tempted whether we like it or not.
Meditation by System (2020)
Working with grid structures and patterns, I was able to enter into a meditative state making these artworks. I had a reoccurring dream of checkered patterns and flowing organic forms. I felt compelled to paint them with flat layers of watered down acrylic paint on small canvases. The pleasing nature of these compositions allowed me to play with bright and pastel colors to create a sense uplifting and carefree experiences. I wanted to hint at stories with the titles. Assisted with contrasting elements of playfulness and system, I was able to create intimate works that I hope can inspire rest and more importantly, content.
Quiet Trees (2020)
These paintings were made when quarantine first started back in March of 2020. I was fortunate enough to move in with my family back in Virginia for that time being. It would have been my longest time being back home from living in New York city. These paintings were made in a few of the first evenings being back in Virginia with a few glasses of wine while thinking that the future suddenly became so unclear.
Here on canvases, both scavenged and unfinished, referenced by “revision,” painting acts as a way to connect the past, present, and future. As a metaphor, rivers have a similar effect as they are in constant motion. For me, the profundity of art is in the process. I don’t think a work of art is ever finished, but rather chosen to be “realized.” It is similar to looking at an old yearbook picture, where you are the work of art.
None of these canvases were blank or bought, but found either in the trash or on the street already marked with texture, color, or rips. Therefore, each canvas brought about its own set of challenges where I had to make use of what the canvas had to offer. I am reminded that beauty is in the imperfect, that within the broken, dirtied, and unrealized, epiphany can be found.
Abstraction is so much of what we don’t see in reality, however feeling or synapse that I believe we all experience yet do not have the ability to articulate, an expression of the spiritual. The intrinsic nature of this spirituality is in the process of the painting’s making, where the presence of the artist is required until the artist decides to call a work finished. Art is the artifact of the presence of the artist.
I am continually reminded that art acts as a lens between universality and singularity. Furthermore, with the gift of perspective. For what I don’t see, you may see. In this exchange, I believe art has the capability to be prophetic. An artist’s role is to be the reflection of society, to expose the nuances of tonality that is witnessed, to repeat. While a river appears to have the presence of stillness, peering in, we realize it is not.
Walls (2022)
These paintings were “constructed” on top of drawn grids. Inspired by the idea of reclaiming the flat image in the face of a digitally aged world of NFT art, I wanted the visual sensation that the layers of paint create. Allowing the paint to dry, and contemplating the next move, the chemistry of the borders, edges, and spaces resonated stories conjured by the color relations. The physicality of painting with all its imperfections is what drives me to choose painting and in turn create poetry.
Broken Heart Paintings (2022)
These artworks were constructed and “built” on grids that I drew. After the grids were built, I pasted cut up hearts that I had from my days working as a resident assistant for my college. I didn’t realize the correlation between these literal broken hearts and my breakup to my ex boyfriend at the time. It shows how art imitates life.
Flying Fires (2021)
These artworks are called the “Flying Fires.” I painted these canvases in New York city over the summer of 2021 on the rooftop of my apartment building in the upper east side. The images were inspired by blue sky, arial views of the city, lush green backyards behind the neighborhood buildings, and hot weather. The title of the series, “Flying Fires” arrived from the idea that these pictures were born from colored “flames.” These dabs of oil paint I place on the canvas by intuitive means act as inspiration, improvisation, that morph into language. The mark making travels throughout the different sections of the composition creating a scene. Completely from my imagination, understanding each “word” from the language gives way to specific arrangements, certain decisions. The marks typically begin looser, more organic however conclude as being more geometric. I wanted to create a pallet that was cool in the face of the heat we had this summer.
Below is the timeline of when the artworks of the series were completed, starting from beginning to end. The number next to the blurbs indicate the number of canvases I was working on at the time of its making.
Moss Dream was the first artwork I created for the series. 1
Pixel Blue was the second artwork finished. It was the quickest and I believe the most enjoyable to paint from start to finish in this series. I made it in about two or three sessions. It began reminding me of being under the sea, however I feel like it lives in a world all to it’s own. 2
Love Game was the third finished. I initially was worried about the pallet of this artwork. The purple and lime greens are a strange choice in pairing, however whenever I looked at the artwork, I couldn’t find anything wrong with it. My rule to completing these artworks was abiding to my “theoretical” knowledge of composition and materiality while disregarding my personal taste. Could these two things be separated? 3
Saying Too Little was also an artwork that was relatively easy to finish. It was an old, red painting of mine that I never managed to complete. I typically use canvases that I find in the trash, especially from my art school days being a resident assistant. However, this canvas I had claimed for my own before I actually finished it. 3
No Matter II was a painting initially from the “Fractals” series that I never finished. It was pink and white and lended itself to being a great ground color. The artwork ended up being a landscape and deeply resembled the original “No Matter” from the “Figments of Imagination” series. 4
Broken Wing was initially a canvas I found in the trash. I was intrigued to paint on it however I thought it might be a challenge as it was heavily textured. It ended up painting itself. I followed along the lines of the original images imposed by the collage that was the surface of the canvas. I thought the sparse, dark blue mark making resembled a flower or a wing. 5
Spirit Heart is the most unique artwork I have made in this group. Initially I wanted to name this artwork “Spirit House” but my partner told me that it was too “Legend of Zelda.” I agreed and replaced “House” with “Heart.” I thought the name was suitable as it was created alongside a song of mine called “Battle of Heart.” I enjoyed the sentiment that the heart could be a house, with rooms. 5
Spacekeeper was the second to last to finish. I initially thought this was going to be the most challenging artwork to finish, however it came out second to final. Granted this canvas was the last to be started, it had a heavy texture from the original painting to combat with. This artwork looks like a mirage of rooms, and different spaces. It was telling of my physical position of being on a rooftop and seeing all the windows to apartments in New York. 2
Saying Too Much was the last artwork to be completed in the series. This artwork was going to be called “Never Ending” as I could never seem to finish it. Something was always off about the composition and I am still not sure if it is finished. However, I feel like it does what it needs to do in terms of showing a picture and sharing a story. One of the last painting sessions for this artwork was conducted out in the rain. The frantic nature of trying to paint before the rain got heavy made for some interesting artistic decisions. I felt as if I was “tagging” or painting graffiti. 1
What Has Been Left (2021/2019)
Sometimes the nature of creation is to destroy. In painting, whenever I find myself without a place to go, I cover everything up in a sold color, typically with white. I see what remains and work with what is left. Saying this is one thing, but actually doing it is another. It is scary to let go of what you have built but holding on only limits you to what you know. To grow is to let go.
Children Drawings (2020)
I created these pieces on the cold floor, in the early mornings of December in front of my childhood home’s sunroom door. I was inspired to create these works after spending a week with my new born nephew, Alden. Traveling back to my childhood home from staying with my brother and his new family for the holidays during the time of Covid, was a humbling experience. Inspired by baby Alden’s curiosity and during the time of quarantine, I had time to go through old works that were unfinished, old items, and materials from my high school days. These utensils: highlighters, pens, sharpies, and crayons became a staple for these pieces. It made me think how I was like a child concocting these images with these tools. The colors and forms created were not dissimilar to that of actual paint. Lucious, rich, and bright, they’re a welcomed contrast from my inherit pallet of earth tones. In a world where we want the best and newest, this time of Covid that has made me revel in the things I already have, hopefully with the magic of a child’s perspective.
Season Paintings (2020)
These works are called the “Season” paintings. They represent the idea of where things were and where they go. While I was living in Virginia briefly from March to June of this year, 2020, I found these unfinished drawings from high school. I cut these drawings into smaller pieces and viewed the drawings differently, as landscapes. Going into them with graphite and colored pencils, I created theses abstract, surreal scenes. They began to remind me of Hieronymus Bosch’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” with their suggestive forms and bright colors mixed with pastel flesh tones. These paintings revealed that my headspace is different from where it was when I first created these images back in high school. They’re smaller and with much more paint, heavier.
Temptation Drawings (2020)
Upon my experience on apps like Grindr, I’ve gathered a collection of these “dick pics” that strangers sent to me. I was compelled to draw these photos and memorialize them, or the people these photos belonged to. These images symbolize my desire for connection rather than sex. We live in a replaceable, cancel culture world, where people aren’t willing to talk with someone of a different belief. Apart from desire, I felt the need to share these drawings only to express my pain as a non-binary individual when it comes to finding love. It is harder to be a minority in this regard as a lot of these men fetishized me during our exchange. We live in a strange time of dating apps, pornography, and instant gratification. We all are either temptation or the tempted whether we like it or not.
Meditation by System (2020)
Working with grid structures and patterns, I was able to enter into a meditative state making these artworks. I had a reoccurring dream of checkered patterns and flowing organic forms. I felt compelled to paint them with flat layers of watered down acrylic paint on small canvases. The pleasing nature of these compositions allowed me to play with bright and pastel colors to create a sense uplifting and carefree experiences. I wanted to hint at stories with the titles. Assisted with contrasting elements of playfulness and system, I was able to create intimate works that I hope can inspire rest and more importantly, content.
Quiet Trees (2020)
These paintings were made when quarantine first started back in March of 2020. I was fortunate enough to move in with my family back in Virginia for that time being. It would have been my longest time being back home from living in New York city. These paintings were made in a few of the first evenings being back in Virginia with a few glasses of wine while thinking that the future suddenly became so unclear.
