Visual Art

Art is my very being. Art is a lover, and our union is often turbulent. We are well past our honeymoon phase. From the breath in my lungs to the sweat on my brows, our arguments take a toll on my emotional being. There are times when I can't even look at a paintbrush; the weight of a piece not immediately turning out the way I want, crushing. I want to break all of my pencils, burn all my drawings and pack up my easel. There are times when we have no open communication, resent each other and even threaten to leave and never return.

But then the weight lifts. I pull my hand away from the canvas, and put the brush down. The tears I put into a piece, the hours of sweat, the agonizing discomfort of forgetting to eat; it all disappears. Art is my best friend and best lover. I exist and continue to live because of it. I bring out the pains and joys of my life because of it. I share my triumphs and fears through my works. I will continue to carry the legacies of my father and mother before me, who have guided me to become what I am. There is no triumph without trial, no love without hate. They are two sides of the same coin.

I choose to express my love through various mixed media, though oil, acrylic and watercolor are often what I am drawn to most. The feeling of a brush stroke placed flawlessly, effortlessly cancels out the feeling of the opposite. My works often have a visually darker scheme, which may be deceptively gloomy to some, but that is never how I have seen it. The darkness that ties together my works is as a result of my love for rain. The sunlight that shines just after a tropical storm is always the brightest, but I look forward to that sun through every rain cloud. Whether my work is a landscape or portrait, abstract or realist, this is what I want to convey to others. The hope and promise of that sun.

Amanda Barclay

Kiss of Life

Amanda Barclay

My work explores identity and the racial inferiority complex Asian people have in modern-day society. I painted a portrait using my face as a reference. I attempted to create a peeling effect, as seen with the horizontal lines across the face. The peeling of the skin is a metaphor for ‘peeling’ away old negative thought patterns of feeling racially inferior and presenting yourself in your most authentic and comfortable form. The two sets of eyes symbolise awareness; it encourages Asian people to open their eyes and appreciate themselves as they are. Lastly, I incorporated the exoskeleton of leaves and painted it around the face to further convey and amplify the importance of the interior appearance rather than the exterior.

by Samzok Wangdi

I vividly remember this one moment. As I read through an email that was sent out from school, my life suddenly turned black and white. My overly sweet coffee tasted bitter while question after question pondered in my head. The email said that the college, my only place of staying in America, is closing due to the pandemic. I asked myself, “where do I go?”

Home is eight thousand miles away, and the hope of going back home went out fast, like a candlelight swallowed by the wind.

My parents were calling me over the phone when I would do anything to be by their side at the moment.

I felt completely lost, and the thought of being away from home keeps me up at night.

Because I would do anything to be with them, but I can’t

My roommate and I share a room together at his house here in Cape Cod.

At least I have him by my side, but the sadness won’t stop creeping in

I disassociate. Noises muttered through Zoom as I blankly stared into the little box of my own face.

Not focused. Can’t understand anything.

My sadness spread out like dark clouds surrounding all corners of this unfamiliar palace.

The feeling of guilt for being in their space and the disdain I have from depending on others. But I am helpless. The sadness becomes comforting. And the comfort keeps me in bed until the afternoon.

The cold of sadness chills my bones and my toes. No matter how warm and big the blanket was, it was still cold.

So, I think of nature. I think of how the rains covered the sky with gray clouds while little drops of rain showered on each blade of grass. It is dark and moody, but not for long until the sun comes out. The sunlight comes in and brings life and hope back into nature.

I realize that I don’t need to be outside to bring myself nature. All I knew I needed to do at that moment was create my own essence of nature for myself.

Things faded in the peaks of eeriness with the pandemic. But the nature within me feels like a hug, telling myself that everything will eventually be better.

I feel lost for a brief moment, but I grow stronger and stronger the more the world knocks me down. Like a tree can’t live without rain, I no longer want to run away from the struggles because I know only by accepting it as my friends do, I allow myself to grow and embrace the nature in everywhere.

Vu Do