Untitled, 2020. Watercolor on paper. 17.5 × 12 in.
Language can contain, but not all things can be contained by language.

This will be its own piece. This will be a piece to augment the art, and a piece in and of itself.

Most things can’t be contained by language. It confines. It limits the extent of what something actually is.

I am a person separate from those events in my life. Can you separate me from my past? My history? My people’s history? Can I be more than that? Can I define myself how I choose?

It’s just a thing that happened to me. It doesn’t define me. I don’t want it to define me.

Stop talking about it.

My hands

My body

My experiences

My circumstances

My surroundings

My memories

My intuition

My emotions

I feel the need to create and share.

It’s my way of sharing and connecting with the world.

It’s my way of helping other people share and connect with each other.

It’s my way of giving to the world.

It’s my contribution to the world.

I want it to be a story. Or a poem. Something pretty. Something dark. Something confusing. Something to question. Something to contemplate.

I want it to explain.

And contradict.

I want it to mean something.

I want to mean something.