Omnious, 2020, photo series & .pdf
Omnious chance encounters with organized spirituality and religion in NYC.
Air Pressure, 2020, photo series
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This is a collection of images I took in the summer of 2019 on a road trip through the United States. My role as a tourist on this trip was a boiled down version of how I had felt my whole time studying in the U.S.
A perpetual outsider, inherently different. I embraced the sentiment and took pictures of scenes that to me captured the feelings of loneliness and isolation I had felt. These pictures balance a line between gloom and vulnerability, a vulnerability that at times is tender, with small signs of something human in seemingly desolate or isolated spaces.
Published in Artfare's Mirror/Image Exhibition.
Syrazy, 2019, photo series
Photos taken in late summer Syracuse, the Rust Belt, 2019. A small American town with a lot of beige carpet and a challenged economy.
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Lana Rhoades, 2018, digital collage
Lana Rhoades is a porn performer born 1996. After receiving unsolicited comments on our resemblance, I looked up her work. This collage is of comments on her videos that speculate on whether she is acting or not, whether the porn is fake or real.
I had been thinking of femininity a performance, Lana Rhoades and other women's acting in porn as the ultimate feminine performance, of woman as object, of woman as her body, as reproductive organs. The images of her tattoo are from different films, and prove her identity is static regardless of acting in different roles.
Movement and light in NYC. Bright and blue day
The title of this work is a play on hyperreality and femininity. It’s about how constantly being objectified makes reality feel unreal. The closer I stare in the mirror, the more disconnected I become from reality, the ideal feminine form is so unachievable it borders simulation. The animation is in my likeness, a cyborg.
Audio borrowed from Trisha Paytas<3, who has made a living performing hyperfemininity on Youtube.
The birds are borderless, the birds are fleeting, the birds are free, the birds are alone, in a group, exposed to the weather, transient in nature, the birds remind me of me, of immigrants, emigrants, migrants, of moving from a place to another with the intention to inevitably leave it and stay in flux.
Online comments left on Youtube videos read out loud IRL in lonely spaces. How absurd is our online existence when made visible in the "real" world? Leaving a comment is like screaming something into a ravine. You throw something out without expecting a reply, if something answers back it's usually a reflection of yourself. Work in progress