When I create, each image translates into a Shakespearean drama all based off of little feelings, little pieces, and little stories. These things, they grow and gestate within my cerebral womb and I can’t help but give life to images and ideas that are loud and exasperated versions of how I feel. Art provides me a vessel to navigate these uncharted feelings. I wanted to create something foreign to my usual color palette — with imagery that feels like Styrofoam rubbing against itself and scissors gliding on butcher paper without a snag at the same time. Clashing colors and glass bowls will do that for you.
Read MoreIt’s hard to comprehend the fact that time is still moving, and life is still happening even in the midst of a pandemic, as if it should be one or the other. People are dying — still, babies are being born, birds are chirping in the morning, mosquitos are biting, people are laughing, people are crying, people are listening, people are fighting, people are loving, cars are using gas, mail is being delivered, art is being created, mold is growing, strawberry jam is being made, my grandmother’s mind is fading, and my son is learning to count.
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