Evolution. December 2023. Oil, newspaper, shellac, fabric, thread, wire mesh, collaged magazine, and curbside garbage (chipped bricks and broken plastic) on canvas. 12 x 36 x 3 inches.
Middle Ground. December 2023. Oil, newspaper, shellac, tulle, used rag, thread, and curbside garbage (bottle cap, wire, cardboard, washers, plastic sheet, metal strip, coffee stirrer, and torn balloon) on canvas. 12 x 36 x 4 inches.
Collision. December 2023. Oil, newspaper, shellac, gauze, used rag, thread, magazine cuttings and curbside garbage (plastic shards and plastic from damaged car) on canvas. 12 x 36 x 3 inches.
Evolution paints space undergoing change. The artwork’s colors and layering create a sense of environment, nature, life, and history, but the scene is unclear. What is old and what is new? Is the painted texture falling away to make space for the white or is the white expanding and tearing at the texture? The different shapes and materials attempt to control the landscape feeling both natural and unfit. The canvas is dense with material and deep with color and imagery to create an evolving environment that is neither old nor new.
Middle Ground is the abstracted depiction of a street curb. Rather than a solid boundary dividing sidewalks from streets and pedestrians from vehicles, Middle Ground re-envisions the curb as a unifying space where remnants of street life are collected. The created work is layered and activated with traces of life and nature—blowing wind, crossing traffic, and dropped things. Many of the artwork’s materials were acquired from familiar streets during a walk with my mother and brother. Middle Ground recreates not only the curb, but also this shared experience as a diligent, whimsical eye upon the world. It is the act of slowing down and attending to small, mundane spaces.
Collision portrays the moment in which two vehicles collide—stress, chaos, and damage—alluding to life’s uncontrollable nature. The three black hunks of plastic attached to the artwork are remnants of a car wreck. Seeing remnants of an accident is strange. We are made uneasy and anxious as it becomes a reminder of life’s fatal unpredictability. Through clashing colors, torn material, and a loss of control, Collision manifests these anxieties. The larger streaks of color and scratchy brush marks claw for stability amidst the violent scene. Damage drips and ensues despite the gauze and thread’s attempts at containment.
Territory. October 2023. Acrylic, newspaper, scrap fabric, white glue, oil pastel, chalk pastel, wire mesh, palette scrapings, yarn, key chain, and paper mache on wood frame. 40 x 40 x 3 inches.
Territory maps the city of Atlanta according to my memories. Recreating the major highways’ impact on the city, void channels behave like an eroding river and divide plates constructed of paper mache. Atop this, layers of color, texture, line, and material build upon one another. Routes are drawn, destinations marked, and appearances recreated to reveal my territory. The variation in detail and density unveils areas that I forget or disregard. Historically, maps have been drawn according to racial and economic bias. I drew my own map to see my underlying bias.