Crop of a recent in progress painting. Crop of a continually evolving face. 👉🏽👈🏽🫴🏽🫳🏽 I may or may not fall in love with someone based solely on their hands. As a true Gemini, hands are one of my favorite extensions of the body.
As Gemini season closes, a strawberry full moon sits high in the sky, and my birthday week ends I sit heart ablaze looking out at all the blessings I have in this life. My cup is overflown with love, I couldn’t ask for better friends, for better parents, for a better community. There’s times I’ve been so low I couldn’t see the light but those times seem so far away right now. Thank you for everyone who believes, supports, and loves me—you can only begin to imagine my gratitude I have for you. This year is going to be a lush garden, for I have been manifesting flowers—I can feel it in my bones.
Shades of
Blush after flirtatious musings, finger gliding over a glass rim making the cup sing higher notes than Mariah Carey
Shades of
Dairy Queen cherry dipped ice cream cone,
Humid summer nights, 17 in Ohio, high off of one shared joint, never thinking of what you’ll look like in 10 years time
Shades of
Wax, dipped fingers in a candle, grass under a microscope, parasites licking honey from the tastiest stamen
Shades of
Cackling so loud it burst into flames, erupting air particles, teeth grazing over warm skin
Shades of
Candlelight from a red holder, the ones in every god damn LA bar, we all have objects that we keep in our back pocket, I keep mine tucked in between the gap in my front two teeth, I’ll miss all of you when our hands are crossed over our hearts
Yesterday I experienced one of my top buck list places. As soon as I caught sight of it my heart and eyes exploded. I am so grateful and it comes to no surprise that Frida Kahlo was the first artist that consumed my young heart and mind. My mother didn’t have many art books or posters around the house but since I was very young we had a Frida painting framed in our living room (now in my living room) and a book next to the couch. I studied that book over and over again captivated not just by her art but her life. She was the first representation of a brown queer woman artist. Her memories live within me as I paint self portraits. I don’t care how cliche it is to say she’s one of my favorite artist because it’s simply true. She showed me that art isn’t about money, it isn’t about fame—it’s about survival, it’s about expression, it’s about absolute human experience and emotion. If I didn’t sell one painting in my life, I would still paint everyday because I have to—it’s what keeps me alive. So so blessed and grateful, my 5 year old heart is full, my heart now is full.
Heavens gate (death to settler colonialism)
Oil on canvas, 36x48in
Wrought iron fence, my heavens gate
In heaven I am smoke, I am air
I entangle myself, threads of silver
interlaced with metal
I interlock with the flowers that climb the fence
In heaven the gate is malleable, turned to soft clay at the touch of indigenous hands
In heaven these hands don’t have to wear boxing gloves (if they don’t want to)
They don’t have to fight for freedom, for sustenance, they may put their gloves aside and only remember their pride for the culture, which they now get to share with their ancestors as they glide peacefully over the land
Death to settler colonialism,
death to the death of the land
Puerto Rico, Palestine, Sudan, The Congo
Insert, insert, insert,
Death to the displacement of people
Death to Death
For my heaven let’s people live
wrapped in the shadows of orchids, iron wrought fences, and boxing gloves
Detail of a recent painting I’ve been working on🇵🇷 Puerto Ricans love their symbols, icons, flag and boxing. Growing up boxing was a quintessential aspect of my family’s life something that represented pride, culture, and an opportunity to fight oppression outside of the ring. Shoutout to my Tio @rickyquiles for being a fighter all of his life and most importantly a lover. As we grow older some of us move further away from our family but there are always things that keep us grounded and reminded us of where we come from.
