Artist Statement
Somehow, I find the bond that makes us human has been lost somewhere. Somewhere we learned to push away emotions like dirty laundry. Somewhere we learned to take ourselves too seriously. Somewhere along the lines of cognitive communication we forgot that we are looking at humans, not at engineers, teachers, professionals, whites, latinos or any other number of names, classifications and symbols. The figure that is our body, the ever present and ubiquitous symbol of our selves is forgotten. In an age of computers we became names and numbers. It’s only when we are sick or decide to fuck that we remember we have a body. We carry vistas of divinity within us. We regret, fear, and hurt. We sway like the wind with whatever force that changes our minds and lives. We are no longer ourselves. I am lost. And so within our selves we cry.
The Enlightenment has left us in the dark. Intellect and reason have ruled us for the past 400 years. This tyranny, evident in our art and our actions, forgets that what we do is not meant to be a clever play on words. The artist as emissary and messenger has the responsibility to expose ideas as well as steer us into a vulnerable place, before words, where we can learn with a beginner’s mind. Art, having gone to the reaches of the mind, must come back down and touch its people. Balance must be had. I want to see the Age of Aquarius with my own eyes, compassion and benevolence. However, I must confess, I also want to see revenge and bloodshed. I do not seek to be a revolutionary, but I do seek a revolution.
To this end I’ll dream of the Rapture. I want to feel that ecstasy of being a newborn child crying itself to the new world. I want to be paralyzed convulsing bound by that knowledge of being alone and wounded and helpless and somehow come through it changed seeing the Atman for the first time and knowing this whole time that I was wrong all along. I hear and see a peace that I have a name for, but do not know what it means.
The Enlightenment has left us in the dark. Intellect and reason have ruled us for the past 400 years. This tyranny, evident in our art and our actions, forgets that what we do is not meant to be a clever play on words. The artist as emissary and messenger has the responsibility to expose ideas as well as steer us into a vulnerable place, before words, where we can learn with a beginner’s mind. Art, having gone to the reaches of the mind, must come back down and touch its people. Balance must be had. I want to see the Age of Aquarius with my own eyes, compassion and benevolence. However, I must confess, I also want to see revenge and bloodshed. I do not seek to be a revolutionary, but I do seek a revolution.
To this end I’ll dream of the Rapture. I want to feel that ecstasy of being a newborn child crying itself to the new world. I want to be paralyzed convulsing bound by that knowledge of being alone and wounded and helpless and somehow come through it changed seeing the Atman for the first time and knowing this whole time that I was wrong all along. I hear and see a peace that I have a name for, but do not know what it means.