On Accidental Essays | Studio Notes
06. Full Moon - April 2025
In my last Studio Notes, “On Cyborgs”, I introduced one of the questions driving my art lately: what the raw, embodied Feminine means for techno Sapiens. I reflected on the meaning and metaphor of the cyborg figure that’s been creeping up in my paintings, seeing it as representing where technology and body meet, a symbol for the co-evolution of our technologies and ourselves. This time, I wanted to dive deeper into what I mean by technology, knowing that my use of the concept will continue to evolve in tension/symbiosis with my creative practice. Since I accidentally ended up writing an essay on the topic, I decided to publish it separately. You'll receive it next week if you’ve subscribed to my newsletter. If you haven’t yet, this is your sign.
Writing an accidental essay is unlike me. The process I know is strenuous and often feels like squeezing the last dollop of toothpaste from a tube. It’s uncomfortable too, like a burning inside that won’t let go of me until I figure out what I want to say and how to finally say it. Fire in the pit of my stomach and up my throat. Then, a volcano. Still, I love showing up, it matters to me. I like the discipline of it, I like the challenge. Meeting my edge, thrashing against it for a while, stretching myself in the process, going beyond. I wouldn’t be as dedicated to my creative practice if it wasn’t a mountain to climb. But I’ll admit that I’m a bit neurotic too.
In my previous newsletter, I also mentioned finishing a painting. Everything suddenly feels so spacious after I finish a painting. I am simultaneously impatient to get started on the next thing but also want to relish a little longer in the in-between space, where ideas swim unformed and experimentation feels easy, playful, and inconsequential. I can see the outline of a new piece way out there flickering, trying to catch my attention. I made a quick thumbnail sketch and returned to my multimedia collages. I'll know when the time is ripe.
It’s been fun flipping through real art books until an image pulls me in. I stopped by the thrift store to stock up on good collage material—I’m still calling in more occult imagery, maybe an old tarot deck, and vintage nude magazines if I’m lucky. For now, I’ve found a few ancient art books and others on mythology. Collaging is new to me so I’ve been mostly juxtaposing decorative papers, acrylic paint, watercolors, and graphite drawings with old artifacts. The process is spontaneous and intuitive. It allows me to experiment with symbols, shapes, colors, and lines while sharpening my drawing skills and relaxing my weary little mind in the process.
Finally, I’ve been busy preparing my studio space for the Spring Open House on April 12 (today) at 780 Blanshard St. Between 1,200 to 2,000 people typically attend, wandering around the building and visiting the artists who, like me, work there. It’s a bit exhausting, I won’t lie, but there are good, energizing encounters too. Perhaps, you’ll be one of them?
