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.
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.