Full disclosure: I ain't been right for a while now. Shit has been so "off" for me. Admitting that isn't a cry for help though. I'm just saying.It's not something that I think is specific to me, because we ALL go through shit ALL the time, but in the spirit of being semi-transparent I thought that it was appropriate to admit that I've been going through a particularly tough time lately. Internally it has been such a struggle to deal with my circumstances and personal relationships. So much so, that I couldn't even be creative and work for the last month. I suppose that it's been an on-going thing, but I've been able to manage it for the most part. Some days are easier than others but it was still relatively easy to remain optimistic either way. However during about the last 6 months, it has become increasingly difficult. Probably the best way that I can describe it is to call it an existential crisis. Sure, not that big of deal...The reasons and the triggers for such a period for me are plentiful and taxing, so I won't go too far into that, but I will say that a large part of what I've been feeling is frustration, confusion, annoyance and perhaps even displacement at this point. I think it's directed towards everything: people, the country and the world at large, my immediate surroundings and circles of influence, myself, and my experiences in Reno, NV for the last 4 years or so. You name it, the list goes on. I really just want things to chill the fuck out for a damn minute. Moving across the country and getting acclimated to a completely new environment and people was change enough for a while. I know that that transition was important and necessary so I don't have much to gripe about in that area, but just when I thought I was conquering that, it seemed like I was immediately dumped into a totally new and even more difficult transition. This time instead of a geographical change, it's been an internal one. One that seems to have been lasting for a few years now. Perhaps all of this is a part of some drawn out process of becoming a new version of myself, and as the older aspects of me die out they conflict with who I'm becoming now. It's a thought. I don't really know, which could be part of the problem too. Or maybe none of this means anything at all and it's just stupid made up bullshit that I'm overthinking because of empty, self-serving ideals or who the hell knows why. Either way, I'm just paying attention, taking notes and riding it out. I also turned another year older last week (I'm 33!), which is an event that always sends me into a period of intense self-reflection anyway. Though I have to say that this year I'm finding myself in the deepest and most scathing evaluation of just about every aspect of my life and who I am as a person. Everything is on the table for me to scrutinize and sort out. I have these check-ins with myself pretty regularly, because above all I want to make sure that I'm square with myself, fuck everything else. But this current self-evaluation has been really hard to get through because of what I'm discovering. So many shifts, for better or worse. I'm still deciding on where I land with it all.Ever since I've been in this new city, it seems like I have absolutely no barrier. If nothing else, it's made me realize what a bubble DC is and other places like it. Out here I feel so...exposed? I also feel equally visible and invisible, which is probably related to being a black female in a relatively small, mostly non-black space. Fuck, that's a topic that opens up a whole other can of worms, but I digress... I have been observing, absorbing and feeling almost everything around me very deeply and intensely - which at times can also make it hard to figure out what to filter or ignore. That feeling was the root of where my Hemorrhage series started and it's a feeling that has persisted throughout my time here in Reno. I'm sure it's a subject that permeates through all of my art in some way, if one were to sit down and connect it all. For the last few years I've felt like I've been flailing, trying to find some kind of anchor or consistency amongst everything that's swirling around me and within me. Maybe that concept doesn't really exist, because everything is liable to change at any moment and none of us "belong" anywhere. Maybe this whole time I've been chasing shadows, searching for answers that lead to nothing anyway. Well at any rate, the world keeps on spinning, right? I still have to get up everyday and be a person. I'm still some kind of a working artist, and work needs to be created and released into the world. So in the midst of all this anguish, I've been trying my best to keep up with Life. Unfortunately there was one painting that got caught in the mess and I can't view it in a positive light. I just really hate it so much:
It can only be described as the physical manifestation of my discontent. I was stuck on this piece for months, having no idea of what was wrong with it or how to fix it. It had all started out so well, I thought. I don't know where I went wrong. This painting went through many color changes over the months. I even had to scrape out some color to start over completely in some areas:
At one point I was so confused and pissed about it that I just stopped working on it altogether. I usually never set aside an unfinished project like that. It bothers me too much. But this time, trying to force a solution was what ate at me the most so I left it alone. Coincidentally I spiraled even further into a pit of despair soon after. So perhaps taking a break from all kinds of work was for the best anyway.Reading some of that back, I can certainly see some parallels between the progression of that painting and whatever I'm currently experiencing in my life. Which I'm sure is exactly why I hate that fuckin painting so much. I can accept and admit that I'm probably projecting and/or being too sensitive or dramatic, and that there's probably nothing inherently wrong with the painting. At the same time though, fuck that piece.Well, at least now I can say that it's finished and I can feel free to work on other projects. It's not in the corner of my workspace side-eyeing me and burning a hole in my brain at the thought of knowing that I haven't figured it out. So that's something, I guess.
Black Art/ist
Are black Creatives obligated to make "black art?" What is black art? Has the definition of this been able to expand and evolve just as we have?I find myself pondering these questions at various points in my life and art career. Lately it has been on my mind pretty heavily as I step back and evaluate the steps I've taken so far as an artist, and figure out my path moving forward. It seemed appropriate to share some of my thoughts here and invite readers to chime in. I'm always open to hear new perspectives and connect to achieve a deeper understanding on this topic. I definitely don't label myself as being hashtag "woke" at all, but I'm going to try my best to express some of the things I think about when it comes to being a black Creative and producing "black art." Hopefully it will make sense...Back in my early 20s, when I first began to consider making art seriously and putting myself out into the world in such a way, I often thought about whether my blackness should play a part in my work. I don't know if this is a common dilemma that most black Creatives face, because I haven't had the chance to discuss this topic with many people outside of a few of my friends, but I distinctly recall struggling with it. I felt some sort of internal pressure or obligation to make "black art." It seemed like all of the black artists that I knew about, famous or not, incorporated that part of their identity or history in their work. So I thought that if I didn't make an intentional, intelligent statement on blackness, black history, or my identity as a black woman then there'd be a part of me that would feel like I would be doing a disservice in some way - a way that I didn't truly understand or could explain at the time. All I knew was that I wanted to express myself and share it with the world, but I didn't want to lean on my blackness in order for my work to be considered relevant. In my creative life, I was more attracted to expressing something about the human experience in general, not just any particular black experience. There seemed to be more than enough black artists in the world who were addressing that subject, and doing it extremely well. I didn't think that I fit into that group at all, and I was ok with that for the most part. In my mind, I wanted to break that mold a little bit and just look at myself as an artist. An artist who happens to be black, not a black artist who makes black art. Perhaps it was naïve of me to think that it could or should be separate. I can't deny that something felt "off" by being so deliberate about dividing that part from my work. There were definitely times when I felt some deep guilt for not wanting to use my work to tap into black identity as much as maybe I think is expected of me. Luckily, I've managed to make artwork that was still meaningful to me despite having an underdeveloped statement about my connection to the black experience.In recent years, there has been an increased acknowledgement of different black identities and issues that exist in the world. It has permeated all of our accessible media, especially entertainment. Current front runners in this movement (people like Issa Rae, Solange Knowles and Donald Glover), have addressed many different topics and subtleties about the black experience in their own intelligent and engaging ways. It's encouraging to see black Creatives rise up and be celebrated because on one hand it means that people want to share and hear our stories. The phrase "representation matters" is something that I've come to understand more intimately as I've matured over the years. It's extremely validating to see that more of our images, words and sounds are considered art, and not just a vehicle to achieve "cool points," by people across various races and social standings on such a large scale. Looking at things through that lens has allowed me to see why it's important for me, as a black artist, to add my own points to the conversation. It was that realization that inspired me to start the Flyy and Kinky series that focuses on black natural hair. One thing that I enjoyed about starting to incorporate characters into my art that had highly textured hair or who were meant to be read as black, was that I never felt like I was jumping on a trend or that I was doing it in an empty attempt to attract a certain demographic. Though it was new for me to be intentional with that subject matter, it still felt personal, it felt significant and I was able to have a subject I enjoyed painting that contrasted the darker emotions that I usually tend to express. Considering the cultural or racial aspect of my identity when approaching some of my work now feels like less of an "obligation" and more like a natural part of expressing myself and providing a commentary on what I notice in society during my time in this world. Nowadays I think I have a better understanding of the scope of the uniqueness of being a black American, as well as the weight that comes with it, than I ever did before. I'm not yet sure if it's because of the racially charged atrocities that have been brought to the attention of the world at large, or the fact that I now live in a town with a mostly non-black population (after spending the vast majority of my life in the huge, culturally diverse DC metropolitan area), but I find myself clinging to and trying to preserve my identity as a black American woman more than I ever have in my entire life. I also don't feel any of the guilt I once felt because I no longer hold expectations of myself to fit into any one perception of blackness, or as a black Creative. I now see that by living my own life on my own terms, and making whatever art that I want to make, that is in itself a valid part of the narrative of being black. So freeing!
I know that I've only scratched the surface of this topic, and I may not have even written about it well, but as always I would love to know what you think! What have you noticed about the surge of black excellence in various creative fields? Who are some creative people of color that you're following now? Do you think that we're heading closer to an era where content and stories by people of color or other marginalized groups will be more universally accepted and enticing to the majority?
Artist Talk: ever-present
I've finally gotten around to adding selected works from my show, "ever-present," from this past June. The work won't be new to those who follow me online or have seen it in-person, but to anyone that's been waiting for a more in-depth post about the show - I thank you for your patience. I have so much gratitude and appreciation towards everyone that took the time to visit Reno Art Works during the show's run, as it was a presentation that I took very much to heart. I think this was probably the first time in my burgeoning art career where I felt very emotionally attached to how people were going to respond to the work. Up until this show, I think that I've been able to maintain a healthy level of detachment: invested enough to care about my work and to share it, but not so much that my ego would be bruised if someone didn't like it. I think that I was so nervous and affected this time because of the subject matter. With ever-present, I directly addressed some intense emotions from points in my romantic life. I've certainly touched on it before in my work but to be honest, I didn't delve that deep within. I deliberately kept the topic close to the chest because for so long I wasn't sure that I wanted to have that level of transparency with the world. Perhaps I was ashamed of those feelings. Showing vulnerability is one thing, and it is a major key to the work that I do, but I don't want to appear weak. It's all fun and games until someone breaks your heart and you're told that you have to "just move on." Then what?There's something about growing up as a black woman that makes one feel like you can't, or shouldn't, express sorrow or anguish over losing a romantic partner - especially if it's a man. "Niggas ain't shit," "Dick comes a dime a dozen," "I can do bad all by myself,"...you know the drill. There's a sort of pressure to always appear like you have it together and that you're impenetrable. And if you're stuck on a man, then well...you a weak bitch. Plain and simple. I don't think that I'm weak, I just have an extremely hard time letting go of special people. And I don't want to be judged negatively for that. Suffice it to say, I don't have an easy time admitting or working through heartache. I have very supportive friends and family that I can talk to, but shit, there's a deep seeded sadness over some of these experiences I've had that I would never express to them even. It made sense to me to keep a lot of my struggles with matters of the heart to myself. However, over the years I've learned that sometimes no amount of pulling it together and shoving on can change how you feel about someone. In a case like that the best you can hope for, is to make different decisions moving forward. Because if you were able to reach that level of openness with a person, where any action they take can affect you that deeply, you can't take that back. There's no casually glossing over an experience like that. They're a part of you now, bruh, whether you get over the person or not.As with a lot of people, I find myself confused yet fascinated by romance and the part it plays (or doesn't play) in my life. Since moving 3000 miles away from my hometown almost 4 years ago, I've hit the six year mark of being without any committed romantic relationship and I entered my 30s. I say that in order to provide some context to where I am in life, not to pity myself, for the record. Though I don't consider myself to have a particularly strong desire to couple-up (but I'm mostly open to it), I do find myself constantly making observations about couples and singles, and my place within the ever-changing dating landscape. I write about it in my journals A LOT. There are many years-worth of journal entries where I've written a plethora of positive, forlorn and complicated passages about my romantic life and what I've picked up from observing things around me. I mean, it's probably obsessive at this point. Those journal entries provided the backdrop for the work in ever-present. I think the combination of the isolation I struggle with in my (fairly) new home, navigating through the end of a romantic involvement that was a game-changing experience for me and falling into heavy self-reflection through old journal entries brought me to a tipping point. Just writing it all out or talking about it wasn't good enough anymore. I decided that it was finally time to start addressing some of these things through color.
So did being more intentional about expressing these private thoughts and emotions through my art help me get over some kind of emotional hump? Did I learn anything? Yes and no. I did learn to be less afraid to be this open in my work. Extending myself in this way allowed me to connect with others on a deeper and fulfilling level. The outpouring of compassion and tenderness I received in response to the work was staggering. I suppose I knew that no one would be outwardly rude about it, but I didn't expect as much positivity either. Opening up and sharing myself, made strangers feel safe to open up to me in a way that probably would've never happened any other way. To be able to connect with people through my artwork, and to have those moments to offer comfort to one another about very personal and sensitive topics regarding matters of the heart was a life-affirming experience. I think I must have needed that as much as they did. I am thankful to all of the visitors for being so understanding and kind to me, they made it easier for me to get through it and to feel encouraged about what I'm doing as an artist. It's an incredible feeling to know that I can offer a perspective that people find refreshing, authentic and relatable. I definitely have a little more relief knowing that the personal experiences I touched on were not uncommon. The only detractor is that I wish all of this helped me improve my current outlook about my personal dealings with romance/dating. I still struggle a lot, and although I discovered that art-making can be a good outlet for me, just having a release isn't enough. But I suppose that's a completely separate issue that I won't talk about here. At any rate, please visit the gallery page for ever-present to view some of the stand-out pieces with accompanying captions where noted. The captions are either direct quotes from my personal journals (in the same vein as my short "Slump" series), quotes from personal conversations or were found.As always, I would love to hear what you have to say about the work, this blog post or if you have something on your heart that you need to bare. Leave your thoughts in the comments section.