Whose bodies are allowed to stay? Whose bodies are not?
Coming on the heels of roundups of undocumented immigrants nationwide, this piece is directly in response to asking follow up questions around the #ADayWithoutAnImmigrant protest. What would life, or these spaces, look like when certain people are removed? Stripping away contextual references and one body from the original photographs creates a parallel world in which the subject becomes the eerie focal point amid otherwise normal, domestic and intimate scenarios. What remains after is not an absent figure, but an intensified figure and an intensified absence.
This piece utilizes PCV pipes as windows into the country of New Zealand, by mean of the country's water sources. The pipes themselves are cut to various lengths to mimick the mountainous lanscape of the island country.
Skin on Skin focuses on body image and perception. When you don't know if the mirror or your mind is warped, you can't trust your eyes and its hard to even understand what you look like. Skin on Skin personifies those anxieties to create the "monster" in the mirror.
Varied Reactions to Neutral Gestures of Hair Pulling
Acrylic Paint, Tape, and Twine on Wall
This piece started off with an immediate idea of what I wanted to do, which was to paint a figure on the wall using stencils cut from illustration board. I then decided that I wanted to add some form of dimension to the piece, as a piece that is more dynamic and less static is often better at generating interest (in my experience). I chose the most generalized color palette I could think of for the figure, which was based on heat signatures (something that all living things have). This was because I wanted to leave the overall message up to the interpretations of the audience instead of assigning the piece one isolated meaning, which meant keeping the figure ambiguous enough that a viewer could step into its shoes.
Lamp, broken hydro-cal, projector, mp4 video projection (3:21 mins)
12" x 6" x 8"
What is the answer to the worries about tomorrow and if the things we are spending our lives doing are going to be relevant? How do we pick up on the signals that we attempt to send ourselves, but yet we feel like the message is still clouded and cryptic? Our insecurities and uncertainties spill out of us the more we battle with the things that we cannot control.
An anthropomorphic relic of our past stands and watches. Its screen displays only the darkened reflection of those who stare into it. Taking design cues from the compact Macintosh computers of the 80s and 90s, its utilitarian appearance suggests that this piece has a certain function. This creates an unsettling anticipation among those who view this sculpture.