Currently working on new art. I call this piece “The weight I carry stands on my shoulders” and is a comment on Black Lives Matter. People have already written so eloquently about this important struggle of common sense acceptance I have nothing to add to it. Only that of course everybody no matter color of skin or where you were born matter. And of course the legal system should stand above and beyond racism.
It’s also a comment on the hysteria of looks in general, especially regarding women who not only have to fight for equal pay still of this day, but also has that silent demand we must look pleasant and be lovable in all times. We even have shows on tv depicting women dressed in one-pieces being ridiculed by the “good” stylists although she explains she’s taking care of her child who has a disability, as well as handling a divorce and a low paid job. But no. She must LOOK AFTER HERSELF (read: look pretty). As if looking scruffy would be a bad thing. Well tell you what? If life throws you shit in your fan and you get splattered for a couple of years there’s nothing wrong looking like you don’t give a fuck because your priorities are already right. You’re doing it. One day at a time. Sometimes one hour at a time. And if that one-piece is making you feel comfortable while doing it IT’S ALRIGHT! The weight problem is not on your ass or your tummy lady, it’s on your shoulders. I hear you sister. Power to you.