The Fear I Saw in Andrew’s Eyes..., 2019
[wax crayon and watercolor on blackout fabric, 53 x 94 inches]
Full Title: "The Fear I Saw in Andrew's Eyes: passions that move the soul, the curtain where the world ismelting to nothing. I began the painting in October because I had no words. I had just seen a video of thelast minutes of Andrew Kearse at the back of a police car begging for his life. Angy, his wife, and myfriend since last year, has just posted it on social media, after AG issued a statement and released thevideo. We have waited for the release of this video for months. For months it had been Angy, alone, whohad seen it, in court. She had to carry the image of her dying love and soul mate for months, go to sleepwith it alone, wake to it alone, tend to their kids with that image. Alone. It pierced my heart to see him andI had never met him. The eyes, his eyes, in one particular shot, are dark, full of shadow. I locked with hiseyes. The darkness, the despair, the disbelief, but also the bursting of life forces, the lastembers of hope,the blinding light of the day behind the cop car window shield, the green of trees, the May sky. The blue.All colliding in seconds, with flashes of pain, rush of loss, discomfort, residue of life’s joy, the knowing ofdeath. Weight of bad conscience.”Oct 26,2018 - Jan 11, 2019
The painting became a complete work on January 11, 2019 when I took it to Melrose Houses to show it toAngy. Thanks to Cassandra Bowlin, the president of Melrose tenant association, we found a room wherewe could hang the painting for a few hours to acknowledge our shared space. The three of us sat beforethe painting treating it as a conduit for Angy to remember and feel Andrew’s presence and strengthen herresolve to pursue justice.



HerStory Kit, 2018
[wax crayon and watercolor on blackout fabric, painted wood, dimensions variable]
A permutable set of eight paintings and text ribbons that in various arrangements reconfigure a story of maternal travel through imaginary hostile landscape. Includes: Path Through This Swamp, How Mother’s Heart is Also A Breast in Revolution, Full of All kinds of Feelings (Armed), Poisonous Desert Plant, Voice,Voice, Machine Age (Curle Coral), Venuses: Are You My Mother or Am I Your Mother, Myth of Virgin Birth. Lines of text inscribed on strips of fabric are locked into various configurations in multiple versions of the work. The paintings travel through a spatial wooden lattice arranged through the available space.


Plum Burial, 2018
[wax pencil on blackout fabric]
I began this painting early morning of March 6th, and as I was leaving the studio I learned from a mutual friend that Carolee (Schneemann) passed away,  with snow and friends around her. Why did I think about  a plum that morning, the sensuous mysterious fruit.