I am driven by suspending ideas and moments that define life as it presents itself. Shame is no longer given a cloak. Fear is exposed as echos of past encounters. Love is questioned in a one on one internal dialogue that takes place in a room made of ivory where the Frontal, Parietal and Temporal lobes nurture the limbic lobe.
In the Songs For A Deaf God series there's a constant attempt at taking back my identity. I present my shame on al altar but not for forgiveness, it is there to be seen as human as something real. There is an attempt at a different kind of redemption. The kind that enlightens to false roots of shame. It's an altar of truth that is there to appeal to our inner identity, the one we are born with that is exactly as it should be and perfect. It's balance is just as it was designed to be, it's own world. There is a desire to return to that, it's a sort of mecca where the path is traveled through reconnecting with that peace we were separated from bit by bit since birth.
This series is about presenting beautiful offerings. It is about examining the very idea of beauty and what we see as perfect. It is about opening up the dark recesses of our past and letting out what we were told is shameful, it's about reexamining the idea of identity. These are altars I've constructed as an act of defiance. They are evidence of existence outside of the established ideals of who may or may not speak for and to a higher ideal.
My technique is best defined as obsessive, laborious but mostly painfully revealing. I work in a self taught glazing technique. Each layer of color floats above the last in a mixture of mediums with translucent coats of paint forming new tones that can only be noticed in person.
When I'm working I forget about the challenges my body presents to people who are shocked by. I was born with muscular dystrophy, which is a degenerative muscle condition where muscles never rebuild once they are used up. It's made me incredibly weak, I now use a power chair to get around. My arms struggle to find ways to get up to the canvas but all of that seems to fade away once the work starts coming through. Each painting takes about 3 to five months to complete since each layer has to be completely dry before a new one can be applied. This means I have to work on about 3 to 4 different paintings at the same time.
Sometimes I work on a series that is completely different stylistically in order to keep me balanced. I've since started working on two others. One is a day of the dead series called Hijas De Su Madre, which is an homage to all the girls who held on to their voice and opinions despite being called an Hija De Su Madre which is the spanish equivalent of son of a ____ that referred to girls instead of boys. I also started a series about searching for existence and connections to life around us that will become a childrens book. That series is Theatro Del Mondo inspired by the writings of Ortelius in 1655 where he attempted to map out the stars becoming one of the first examples of a star atlas.
I'm in a stage of life that feels very honest and empowered despite being weaker physically than I have ever been before. I feel free to explore all emotions and ideas. I'm fortunate enough to still have the ability to paint and write. This year also marks a milestone in my arts timeline where it is now in some pretty amazing permanent collections in Notre Dame, LACMA, Mexican Museum of Chicago, UT Austin and UC Santa Barbara.
Here's to creating, dreaming and waking. Here's to your voice and finally valuing life's perfection just as it is.