My work as an artist has been ever evolving, throwing me in and out of comfortability, fear, and acceptance. My process largely depends on my inner workings and the way I express my own spectrum of emotion. Often, I am overwhelmed by emotions that are far too big, too scary, too much. Through my art, I attempt to approach these feelings with lightheartedness, breaking them down until they are digestible enough to be embraced with compassion and thought of with a candid laugh.

In practice, these works take the form of cartoons, illustrations, and stories through mediums such as pen, pencil, and acrylic paint. Working with simplified lines and hyper-graphic color allows me to let go of the pressure of artistic technicality and reveal my own intricate experiences with the emotional reality of being human. My sense of humor and modernity guide me as I flesh out my work, emerging in references of comedy and pop culture that then turn my fears into something familiar and relatable.

However, my work has recently shifted. Gracelessly, I have changed as human living in a virus-ridden world, being stretched to my thinnest and collapsed to my smallest. With such unprecedented raw emotion, I have found a strong aversion to art entirely, leaving me in a desperate search for expression. This search led me to photography. A year ago I would not have even entertained the idea of me with a camera; it was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Yet, here I am, grasping so tightly onto this medium that is making me feel alive. Taking photos of trash, though it seems filthy and maybe even disappointing, has strangely been one of the only moments of normalcy in my currently unstable world. It makes me laugh. I am not sure why this feels good to me, and I am not sure if I will ever understand it. Nevertheless, my work in Pavement Art continues to connect my sparks of joy to my understandings of fear as I manage one emotion at a time.