My concentration is a reflection of my imagination during Covid. The canvas is a window into my mind, a place for me to depict my thoughts, my emotions, and my nightmares. While in much of my work I tend to implement bright colors contributing a sense of playfulness, the creatures I illustrate are unsettling yet humanoid and evoke feelings of isolation and melancholy. This juxtaposition between color and subject matter emphasizes the disconnect between my desire to be free and the reality of being trapped at home respectively.

I do not plan my work. My process begins with my pen and a surface. From that point on, my imagination guides my hand. Observation is crucial as it fuels creativity. I take note of what intrigues me throughout the day: the cracks on a ceramic pot in my backyard, entangled vines clinging to a steel fence, the silhouette of a shirt draped over my desk chair. These forms are translated into twisting arms and distorted faces that interlock, connect to, and even strangle anything nearby. These forms are meant to show my physical discomfort during isolation, but also how my thoughts and imagination are becoming twisted and deranged as well.

Within my hectic and bombarding compositions, I hide details that may be overlooked by a quick glance. I challenge viewers to examine the whole piece, to discover hidden elements, and to develop their own interpretations of both the meaning and origin of the eyes that stare back at them. In files 14 and 15, I combined pieces from my sustained investigation into a composition that appears to connect, but physically does not. Just as the works are disconnected from one another, I too am disconnected from the world around me. However, my imagination, which is imprinted on each canvas, is able to form a larger image. Thus, while I may be quarantined, my mind and my ideas remain free.