For me, creating art has never been a soft whimsy, or a dainty, fanciful brushstroke. When I am creating art, it is like I am vomiting. It is like I am crying, sweating, defecating, drawing my own blood.
This piece was an incredible experience to create. I wanted to draw a vivid connection between the substance of art and it’s matter. I wanted to capture how it felt, in an apposite way.
This was a project I carried out entirely in my tiny dorm room bathroom. I began by drawing non-toxic liquid watercolor paint into small glass pipettes, and then ejecting the paint into my eyes. It burned. My eyes flushed out the paint as tears, expelling the pigments down my cheeks and neck. I ejected the paint up my nose and I coughed it up, spat it up, blew it out furiously to try to keep the burning in check. This is what art feels like.
Then I moved into my bathtub. It was an incredibly small spaces, especially sharing it with a garbage-bag bedaubed tripod. This, too, was a painful experience. Water went up my nose. Between each take I was coughing and blowing and trying to clear it out. The positions my body had to take left me sore for days.
This was a project whose first medium was paint. It was a performance art piece, captured as self portraits. The photographic prints became a sculptural installation, which then became a video piece. This- this is the liveliness of integrative studio practice.