𝑮𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆

Thank you. Thanks Shakira. You're not doing your best, acknowledgment, but

you’re not stopping. Thank you for recognizing that giving up is easy, and the real

challenge is channeling the courage to about-face everyday. Thank you for your

competitive spirit that tussles with your mindset of working smart and not hard.

Thank you for taking up space. Thank you for exploring the unknown and being

uncomfortable. Thank you for knowing what you don’t like.

Because I Can: Ode To Dasia, From Scratch To Stitches (2023)

This is a piece that is special to me. I created this piece in response to conversation about the sublime and uncanny in relation to breaking barriers. I chose to honor a young woman breaking barriers in STEM, and being the representation in the world that she didn't have. Her name is Dasia Taylor, and my goal was to remind her that her efforts aren’t futile while also commemorating her for the work that she has done and also for the work that is to come. I conducted a mini interview with her asking her questions ranging from her discovery to what she likes to do in her free time. I scribed her responses and that is mainly how I composed this piece. While she was giving her response to my questions of why, she would respond simply because she can. I found this notion to be extremely powerful and inspirational, and it gave me the title. From there, I solicited my sister, who is an amazing artist, and asked her to draw a portrait of Dasia. The picture is not a typical white coat picture with her in a lab, but rather in what I deemed to be her natural element. She is portrayed outside and in a vibrant manner. The ode on the back, I can say I organized, but it really was a collaboration of Dasia’s words. I took bits of her answers from the interview that I had scribed and strung them together to make an ode. As she talked about her life, and the stumbles and victories that got her to where she is at, many things struck out to me and touched my heart. I think this is related to the fact that we are more similar than different. I wanted to incorporate those things to give structure to the image you see painted on the canvas. Her words are beautiful. She is beautiful. This art is beautiful.

𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑫𝒓𝒖𝒎

This piece was composed with Dario Robleto in mind. He makes art where the materials are more interesting than the art itself. The drum itself is an empty yogurt carton. I chose to design the drum with dried paint that had set into a paint tray that caused this beautiful texture to touch. I then added a braid from my hair to the inside of my drum to form a heart that represented the rhythm of the drum. I then used another braid to add to the outside of my drum to form a design and added the string at the top and bottom to give it the drum look that I wanted. I chose to decorate the drum with yellow and pink. Yellow is my favorite color but pink is a lifestyle that represents me. This is a self portrait made from an empty yogurt container. I march to the beat of my own drum and this is my physical representation of that idea.

𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝑨𝒕 𝑴𝒆

For this art piece, I allowed myself to be a model for an art group meeting. I posed while the participants drew me from their perception. I am so pleased and thankful to have been able to pose for them and offer me as art. Everyone signed their piece and every piece came out different, signifying the diversity of talent that was present for the art group.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑰𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒅

This is a project composed with the collaboration of another intelligence. I chose to collaborate with nature and collect something which  is not permanent, snow. I set a can outside to be my container and left it out to fill with snow. I also visited an online AI to generate the name of my poem. It gave me this title that I chose on my first attempt where I had forgotten to  enter the poem, so nothing was in the chat box except for “give me a name for this poem”. Not only was this the best title offered in my opinion considering I don't explicitly say the name of the thing I describe in my poem, it also played to the idea of impermanence since the AI generator created a name for a poem in which it had yet to know.

𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒂𝒅 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔

This art piece I decided to explore my abilities with a paint brush. This piece was composed  in response to Margaret and Christine Werthereim, who collectively crochet a coral reef  in response to climate change and plastic trash which are devastating marine life. I wanted to make an art piece, like the Werthereims, that ‘gives life’. Which is a phrase that refers to the feeling you get when you interact with something that sort of renews the light inside of you. Brings you back hope and energy. This piece has two sides which both symbolize the life inside me. The dark side is full of red and black which definitely gives off the impression of anger or rage and sadness. When you look on the bright side, you see a collage of white, yellow, and pink. Yellow is my favorite color, and I always say pink is a lifestyle. Both sides coexist, just like they do inside me, and make a whole piece which gives life. Both are different days, but neither is more important than the other.

𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓

𝑭𝒂𝒓 𝑭𝒂𝒓 𝑨𝒘𝒂𝒚

𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒂𝒎

𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕? 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒆𝒙𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒎 𝑰 𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏? “

𝑫𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆” 𝑰 𝒚𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏

“𝑾𝒉𝒚?” 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅, “𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕?”

𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕? 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕? 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇

𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒂𝒊𝒕, 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒓. 𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆? 𝑴𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆.

“𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆” 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚. “𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍, 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔. 𝑨 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕” 𝑨 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓? 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎?

“𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒖𝒉, 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒚. 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍… 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍. 𝑰𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈.”

𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔.. 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆

“𝑯𝒆𝒚!” 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅

“𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆? 𝑰’𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆.”

𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕. “𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕? 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓? 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆? 𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 2 𝒅𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒄𝒖𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉? 𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔, 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆? 𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒑 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒆? 𝑰𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎? 𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅? 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍, 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒎 𝑰 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖?”

“𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒔… 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎.”

This was a project inspired by Sol Lewitt, an instructional artist. I am not the best at drawing and I wanted to collaborate with my class to create a drawing piece I could call my own. I composed a story which was intended to paint a scene in one’s mind and read it to my class. My story was short, and written on my own. Then I asked my peers to draw what scene popped  in their mind, and I strung it together which created a whole new story left for viewer interpretation. 

𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚

This was a game I composed in response to Carsten Holler. This game explores one’s senses. I want people to explore if they can effectively communicate without using their mouth and words.

Let’s play a spin off of the popular game telephone! It is a communication game. Let's see if we are coherent enough in our senses to communicate with each other without the use of sound.

Objective: Effectively communicate the message that was composed by the leader of every round. Figure out which sense you can most effectively communicate with and which ones need more development.

Rules: 

• Players may NOT talk using any words or sounds when communicating the message between players

• Players must stand in the line where the leader, original message composure, will be at the end of the line with everyone facing forward

• Leader then expresses a message to the person in front of them who will be facing them.

• Once message is received from leader, the next player will turn around and tap the shoulder of the person in front of them, who will turn around so they’re facing each other, and relay the message

• This method will be used until the message makes it to the front of the line

• You can’t do the same movement as the person who gave you the message

• The player who last received the original message uses words to communicate the message that has been going around and the leader of the round will express if the communication was efficient or off. This is a piece I wrote in response to Carson Holler’s work.

𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝘼𝙢 𝙄?

This is a piece I created  while I was at an art group, and everyone was creating landscapes. I don’t have the ability to draw, but I do have an inclination to words. I chose to capitalize off this fact, and make a self portrait of sorts. What are some words that describe the person I am at this moment? I’m human and I’ll keep evolving, and I want a way to capture my progress. I picked words that I think correlate with me to create an image of a human. 

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒔/𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆

This is a poem I wrote in response to Ani Lui’s art. She used different biological materials for her art, and made them very personal. This poem was a spinoff to a project I was thinking of called “Binky”, as in something used for soothing. This poem reminds one to slow down and breathe, listen to one’s heartbeat. Feel it and control it.

𝑴𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐

Art. What is it? Well according to the definition of the word, it is a diverse range of human activity that produces something from creative or imaginative talent. What is the difference between a talent and a skill? Well again, according to the definition of the word talent is innate whereas skills are things developed. Did Mozart start composing fresh out the womb? Probably not, but I'll never get the chance to ask him. So why do we call people talented? Are we not aware of our misuse of the word? I mean according to google of course because society will convince you that exposing the inside of your eyelids is mere talent. Okay, focus. How does this all relate to art you ask? WELL… society loves to put its emphasis on certain ideas in order to create this seemingly true distortion of what society wants the general world to perceive, or should I say general society. Confusing? Let me say it a different way, it’s not what they call you, it's what you answer to. Still confusing? My bad, how about society controls society. That's as simple as it gets. We have a choice to believe our eyes or not. Knowing that vision literally comes from light, and society prides itself on making sure said lighting is picture perfect, I have doubts. I have considerable doubts about what my eyes see. My mind does too, and sometimes it exposes them to my conscience. When I look around, memory is mostly my source of appreciation. The connections I make in my head to previous times in my life stir emotions that arouse curiosity. My curiosity leads to different ways of thinking, which does not formulate in my mind without imagination. 

I've never been able to write in a straight line. I actually have to turn my paper sideways and lower my head to be able to write at all. It's almost like my fetal position, incubating my creative growth. I also can’t draw in a straight line, this fact discredits my thoughts about my ability to call myself an artist. I don't have an inclination to create unless I have a pen in hand. That is the best way I know how to express my thoughts. Even then, I have to be patient. I don’t always know what I want to say. Writing comes with a lot of trial and error, just like life. If only life had an eraser. 

Writing is my outlet, I wouldn't call it art. I would consider it my only talent. I didn't come out the womb with a pen in hand, I know that for a fact. But I was nurtured with the infinite possibilities of words from the womb. My mother is a word connoisseur. She can express her thoughts succinctly. I could never give myself that title, considering my writing voice is just that, only bold and assertive in my writing. I'm learning to switch my writing voice up from time to time and make it more authentic, just like my skill when speaking. Mostly because this voice lives in me, it just doesn't know how to present itself to the world all the time. We could call it art. Art is… whatever it answers to. Art leaves room for interpretation, the audience gets to decide. I am not an artist, but sometimes I make art.