I began this body of work after reading about medieval French carnivals: collective performances of dance, laughter, eating, drinking, and bodily taboos such as defecation and sex. People gathered in the marketplace to celebrate their shared humanity while intentionally disguising themselves through masking and costume. The group temporarily turned into one collective body.
The troubles of our own divisive world—from post-pandemic isolation to the disembodiment of social media, political polarization, various forms of nationalism, and the alienating effects of global capitalism—have all left me longing for this idea of a collective body. Even when we’re physically alone, we still affect each other through social, political, and economic systems. The collective body is always there whether we acknowledge it or not. Instead of painting to depict, I now paint to make this togetherness tangible, to invert the act of gazing and turn it into being-with.
My process begins with poured ink. Once the ink dries, I respond by painting on top of its accidental textures and forms until they begin to seem intentional. I make choices that prioritize attraction, repulsion, shared laughter, and recognition—experiences that are both uncomfortable and enticing at the same time. Through these interventions, the most accidental element of the painting—the poured ink—begins to feel relatable on a gut level, reaching beyond the gaze and tapping into something visceral that connects us.