She's the mountain
2021
screenprint, monoprint, collage (16in x 24in)
To the river
I am still.
As if the sky is covered in a blanket of gray,
No blue to reflect.
As if the sky is covered in a blanket of gray,
No blue to reflect.
Sometimes it feels suffocating
Looking up to see flat
white
not Blue not
Sky
Not Sun
but cloud.
Looking up to see flat
white
not Blue not
Sky
Not Sun
but cloud.
A sheet,
Heavy and dense.
Heavy and dense.
Blue feels free,
like breath,
like wind,
limitless
Gray makes the sky low. makes the ocean flat. white water without the warmth of blue waves
The gray muffles out sound and blunts sharp tips of skyscrapers
Gray sky gray blanket gray water
gray air gray people walk by
with gray dogs, gray bikes ride on
gray wheels, gray grass pokes out
from the gray sidewalk.
gray sky.
gray sun.
gray air gray people walk by
with gray dogs, gray bikes ride on
gray wheels, gray grass pokes out
from the gray sidewalk.
gray sky.
gray sun.
I am lost in the gray. In dense fog. I feel blue.
...
whisper the ocean I know flows into these rivers
whisper the rain can also fill me. can also bring me peace
the gray whispers the water will always hold you
the water will always hold you
The water will always hold you.
No matter your shape or weight in your chest
if you can let her, she will hold you.
if you can let her, she will hold you.
whether she is gray or blue she will fill you.
And so I am full
she will wash you
And so I am clean
and so I am the rain and the sea.
And so I am home.
Islands
2021
screenprint, pastel, collage
4ft x 6ft
Nadando 2021
ink and photomontage
24in x 36in
ink, paint marker, collage, photomontage (24in x 40in)
This work is part of a series that aims to visualize what the body holds, and how the body can be held. I find myself separated from kin by different bodies of water, both historically, embodied through migration, or presently, embodied in the great distances between myself and my family members across continents. With this series, I also aim to explore how my body exists in these in-betweens not only geographically, but literally and physically as a gender-nonconforming person. At a time when trans folks and, specifically, our bodies are literally under attack, I find the water to be an allegorical safe space, one that holds regardless of the qualities of the body and connects us universally regardless of creed. I attempt to transform the body into abstract landscapes in order to visualize the emotional depths and weights our bodies hold and to depict how the body becomes abstracted from humanity (specifically amidst legislative debates taking place that will decide the fate of our lives in this country). This series draws from intersectional premises of Caribbean land-based spirituality, gender expansivity, and queer ecology. While I have never participated in formal religion, bodies of water have always been sites of prayer and solace for me. Learning about Santeria and Yoruba spiritual practices from my Cuban family has allowed me to attribute my connection to water to the gods that reign over them. Much of the thematic and visual inspiration for this series comes from the mother goddess Yemaya, who rules the oceans and is represented by the colors blue and white. I draw loosely from mythologies of deities and woman-goddesses like Yemaya, Oshun, and the ocean itself as mother, woman, healer, and bearer of life. Despite your shape, the water will always hold you. The water holds us, universally, regardless of our place in life or point in transition.
