Sumi ink is an act of love. I kinda hate the smell but love the end result. Layers and everything. Slowly building the worlds.
It is a hard time in America to be Asian. It has never been easy to be a woman and it has never been easy to be a Black woman. I did this painting to show how we all walk in the same places. In my neighborhood there are so many cultures living together. Three miles of Langley Park at a paint swatch of browns of every spectrum. They all are thought as “essentially workers”, which is to say they work in the world where the rich have them putting them selves in danger for convenience and mostly have no health care. We have the same struggles and we surf the same waves. People are people peopling.
They come in three colors grey, navy and black.
I rest in places where my head can fit in my hands with out blinking. Which is to say I do not rest for long periods of time and space. My mind captures all these ideas as they dance behind my eyes and then onto the page or canvas.
We are only still in blinks. The making s of loud voices whispered into dreams.
Naked to all the rest of the world and how we wish the books to end before we pick them up. The shower may be the most honest we are all day.
A universe of moments and clarity is this thing. Like the moon it is a bison in the distance. Not sure what it is made of. Could be cotton? Only the silliest imaginary beast imaginable. A cotton ball with a cow face.
These things are the clouds in the sky distancing the roof from being fixed but also the world the roof exists in.
Something simple but golden like a piano.
Óla my Galeras,
I’ve been thinking deeply since the virus hit. Making crazy art and trying to finish crazy art. The madness is strong. It’s the time available to spur my minds second thoughts. Madness.
The key parts I have understood in my process are to not take the inches as miles. The small moves are never noticed until you make 100 moves. So you have time to play around with colors and patterns and shapes. The love is in the details.
I keep playing with the idea of writing an art/ color/ texture philosophy book.
And it would all come together from my mind into the book. Maybe it’ll be a lot of things together kind of like me. A mixture of cultures and ideas. A cake of makings.
What do you think?