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I Am. It Is.

I have redacted the titles and artist statement that accompany the physical versions of these works and instead provided a QR code for the viewer to scan. I invite those who wish to do so to take steps to find meaning and give name to these paintings. Having the text blatantly posted on a wall is not something I am comfortable with, nor do I think these paintings call for that kind of exposition. They are quiet and intimate, so has been my emotional experience, as well as the mode in which the viewer consumes and relates to the screen on which the description and titles can be read. A phone is a precious object, it’s contents meant for the owner alone.

Some say that change is more important than happiness. I don't know if I agree, but I have recently experienced a change that has touched every part of my life. It’s not going very well and I’m not doing okay. Admitting that to myself and others is a new experience. Learning to be okay with not being okay is a challenge. It's true that you see what you want to see, but what if I don't want to see anything? It's hard to look to the future for any sense of comfort when it can no longer contain anything I previously looked forward to. Sometimes it feels like the past owns all, but there I can only rot. These paintings are reflective of that, their emptiness is my own.

Repetitive mark making is the only thing that has been helpful, it is a single constant and has become a kind of wordless mantra. Through repetition of line I recognize and begin to come to terms with my own negative thought patterns. Watching them accumulate on the canvas is a sobering and self-reflective activity. Emotions are tools that facilitate the production of things unique to the individual and their experience. Through these paintings I am trying to feel okay with my current state of deep not-okay-ness.