You, Me, & the Sky
Mixed Media Installation, 2023.
Supernovas. A beautiful explosion that comes at the end of a stars life. There’s something poetic about dying and leaving something beautiful in your wake. It makes me think about my grandmothers and grandfathers who have left us. How from their death comes the reuniting of family, the sharing of memories, and heaps of love from those who know us best to someone we haven’t spoken to in twenty years.
That connection–me to you, you to the stars–is something I view as burning and ever-present. The sky is a pool of everything that once was and what will one day be. The stars that twinkle high above are the same that your mom and your mom’s mom saw, and they are the same that your children will see. Life is full of unknowns, much like the universe, but it’s full of light and love. You see, I genuinely love people, even if my impassive exterior alludes to no such thing. Every piece I’ve collected from lost friends, favorite old coworkers, my parents, and irreplaceable chosen family I’ve known since preschool have woven together my story and my life. Ancestors I’ve never met left little droppings in the sky that impact who I am whether I am aware of it or not.
I wish I could tell you the amount of times I sat down to write or draw and scour old photographs with smudged mascara and a heavy weight in my throat. Time is precious and like the sentimental blob I am, I must tell you that creating this project has been the honor of a lifetime–my lifetime quite literally. For everyone scattered into these stars, I love you. I may have never spoken those words to you, but it’s the truth (and I should probably take the time to tell you that!). I am so deeply impacted by who you are and how you twinkle and flicker through my life, even if it is only briefly.
