My work explores the importance of queer history and historical figures through mixed media portraits. I depict historical figures using mediums and unconventional materials that symbolically connect to their life and historical importance. Details of their lives, such as Oscar Wilde’s tomb and Marsha P. Johnson’s struggles with poverty, dictate my medium and directly connect my art-making process to each subject. I avoid repeating a medium or technique to make each piece visually distinct in order to showcase the various types of lives these people led. Creating this work has been the most powerful way for me to use my voice and share this information with others. Sure I could write an essay about these people, but how many people will actually read it? Will the impact of their story be as provocative as a well thought out single image? My work always begins with extensive research on the subject. Documentaries, biographies, interviews, and work written by the historical figure are the driving force of my work. Once I have researched my subject, I experiment with my medium and its application. Since my work is mixed media my approach to making a piece is never the same. I start by learning the basics of my medium, such as sewing or scratchboard. I then explore the limitations of my material and how to use those limitations to elevate the concept of the piece. For example I was inspired by the color limitation of scratchboard, so I explored using similar techniques on other easily scratched surfaces like vinyl records. My process of extensive research and meaningful choices in things such as medium, canvas size, and how many minutes I physically work on a piece are all unreplicable by an A.I. Art is about the passion of the process and creation coming from the soul. The meaning of art only matters within the context of it's creation and viewing. Without the historical context of the subject I depict, my own queerness, and subtle references in my work recreating my art through artificial means strips the image of it's value and emotional resonance. As a young queer person who doesn’t have queer elders in my life, I look towards our history for reassurance and community. The lives and tribulations of historical figures assure me that I am not alone in my experiences. I aim to inform viewers of the deeply rich and often forgotten history of the queer community. We have existed in every pocket of history from ancient Greece to the Space Race. Though the vocabulary we use to define gender and sexuality continues to evolve, looking back at our history contextualizes the progress we have made and the progress that still must be done. I share the stories of these people in hopes to provide the same reassurance and sense of community that they have brought me to other queer people.

On the cramped couch, my mom insisted it was important that my brother and I watch a movie together. She wouldn’t explain why it was important to her but I knew. I knew about the doctor’s appointments, the surgery, and her diagnosis. My mom attempted to keep her early-onset Parkinson’s a secret from my brother and me, then ages eight and ten, but I listened to the hushed conversations between my mom and grandma. So when she turned on Back to the Future, I understood the significance of this moment. My mom slowly introduced my brother to the concept of Parkinson’s through Teen Wolf and Spin City. Every Thursday night my mom and I furtively recognized the tremors and slurred speech in Fox’s character in The Michael J. Fox Show. Today we privately take note as her muscles stiffen and she strains to walk, now forced to use a cane. It hurts to see my mom struggle to drive or limp around the house. Her hands cramp up and prevent her from firmly grasping objects. Limited shoulder, hip, and leg movement preclude her from reaching high shelves, bending over, or crouching down. Knowing how painful it was for my mom to do most physical activities, I quickly took over doing all of the chores and taking care of the family. Without another parent, I was the only one in my house physically capable of tasks such as laundry, cooking, and cleaning. I knew I had to step up and accept full responsibility for our household. I took care of myself and our family when my mom physically couldn’t. Becoming the sole bearer of this task was daunting, but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make. Balancing difficult and demanding art classes and maintaining our household proved to be a challenging tightrope to walk. Many nights I wouldn’t sleep, staying up late to finish paintings for my AP art portfolio after spending the day at school and caring for my mom. Juggling all my responsibilities alone became a monumental undertaking, but I knew there was no way I could cut out art or caring for my mom. My brother still does not understand that she cannot physically do the things she used to. Knowing my brother continues to push my mom to her limits and make her disease worse, I feel the need to double down and do more work for her. My experiences taking care of my mom has fueled multiple art pieces and a passion to succeed in my field for her. My mom used to be an artist too, though now she struggles to hold a pen. She has loved and supported me through so much and I want to support her when she needs me. I draw for the both of us. Nowadays a lot of my art explores my relationship with her in different ways. I write comics about my coming out experience and my mental health. Sharing these stories with her brings us together, and I hope it can do the same when I am able to share them with the world. I can’t always physically be there for my mom. One day I will have to move out. It scares me that once I leave, her Parkinson’s will progress faster since she will be forced to do the strenuous physical activities I did for her. Leaving one day will be unavoidable, but I hope it can wait until after I have graduated. I aim to succeed in college and a career in animation in order to help take care of my mom.

My work explores the importance of queer history and historical figures through mixed media portraits. I depict historical figures using unusual mediums and unconventional materials that symbolically connect to their life and historical importance. Details of their lives, such as Oscar Wilde’s tomb dictate my medium and directly connect my art-making process to each subject. I avoid repeating a medium or technique to make each piece visually distinct in order to showcase the various types of lives these people led. My work always begins with extensive research on the subject. Documentaries, biographies, interviews, and work written by the historical figure are the driving force of my work. Once I have researched my subject, I experiment with my medium and its application. Since my work is mixed media my approach to making a piece is never the same. This portrait is inspired by playwright Oscar Wilde and his tomb. Due to his work’s popularity and his trial’s infamy, it is a popular tradition to kiss Wilde’s tomb. The tradition is so popular that lipstick grease has deteriorated the tomb and glass barriers were installed to preserve it in 2011.The lipstick tradition symbolizes the public opinion about Oscar Wilde drastically changing. The man who was once outcast because of a kiss is now showered with affection to the point of destruction The portrait is done entirely with lipstick. The only exception is black acrylic paint for line art. The background is a pattern of green carnations, an important queer symbol coined by Oscar Wilde. I used a stippling technique to create the texture of the fur collar. The portrait is 13.2 inches x 8 inches to reference the unveiling of Wilde’s tomb in August 1914. As a young queer person who doesn’t have queer elders in my life, I look towards our history for reassurance and community. The lives and tribulations of historical figures assure me that I am not alone in my experiences. I aim to inform viewers of the deeply rich and often forgotten history of the queer community. We have existed in every pocket of history from ancient Greece to the Space Race. Though the vocabulary we use to define gender and sexuality continue to evolve, looking back at our history contextualizes the progress we have made and the progress that still must be done. I share the stories of these people in hopes to provide the same reassurance and sense of community that they have brought me to other queer people.

My work explores the importance of queer history and historical figures through mixed media portraits. I depict historical figures using mediums and unconventional materials that symbolically connect to their life and historical importance. Details of their lives, such as Oscar Wilde’s tomb and Marsha P. Johnson’s struggles with poverty, dictate my medium and directly connect my art-making process to each subject. I avoid repeating a medium or technique to make each piece visually distinct in order to showcase the various types of lives these people led. My work always begins with extensive research on the subject. Documentaries, biographies, interviews, and work written by the historical figure are the driving force of my work. Once I have researched my subject, I experiment with my medium and its application. Since my work is mixed media my approach to making a piece is never the same. I start by learning the basics of my medium, such as sewing or scratch board. I then explore the limitations of my material and how to use those limitations to elevate the concept of the piece. For example I was inspired by the color limitation of scratchboard, so I explored using similar techniques on other easily scratched surfaces like vinyl records. As a young queer person who doesn’t have queer elders in my life, I look towards our history for reassurance and community. The lives and tribulations of historical figures assure me that I am not alone in my experiences. I aim to inform viewers of the deeply rich and often forgotten history of the queer community. We have existed in every pocket of history from ancient Greece to the Space Race. Though the vocabulary we use to define gender and sexuality continue to evolve, looking back at our history contextualizes the progress we have made and the progress that still must be done. I share the stories of these people in hopes to provide the same reassurance and sense of community that they have brought me to other queer people. I use my art to connect and remember our history. I believe art is important to preserve and commentate current events when words fail to properly express our feelings. History classes will never be able to capture the love and suffering the historical figures I paint have faced. My art expresses the lives of these people in more meaningful ways than documentaries and textbooks. Without art we lose what brings people and new ideas together. Art forces you to see the world in new ways.

The delicate swirls of peaks and valleys peanut butter creates on a sandwich. Scratches in a second-hand vinyl record twinkling and disappearing as it shifts in the morning light. Smothering layer after layer of lipstick on your mouth while a thick cakey film builds up - though you still insist one more, one more layer and I will look perfect. Textures like these inspire me to just play with my art, to explore unconventional materials to see what the medium can offer that art supplies cannot. As a young queer person who doesn’t have queer elders in my life, everyday I look towards our history for reassurance and community. My work explores the importance of queer history and historical figures through mixed media portraits. Details of their lives, such as Oscar Wilde’s tomb and Sister Rosetta Tharpe’s influence on Elvis, dictate my medium and directly connect my art-making process to each subject. I then explore the limitations of my material and how to use those limitations to elevate the concept of the piece. For example I was inspired by the color limitation of scratchboard, so I explored using similar techniques on other easily scratched surfaces like vinyl records.

On the cramped couch, my mom insisted it was important that my brother and I watch a movie together. She wouldn’t explain why it was important to her but I knew. I knew about the doctor’s appointments, the surgery, and her diagnosis. My mom attempted to keep her early-onset Parkinson’s a secret from my brother and me, then ages eight and ten, but I listened to the hushed conversations between my mom and grandma. So when she turned on Back to the Future, I understood the significance of this moment. My mom slowly introduced my brother to the concept of Parkinson’s through Teen Wolf and Spin City. Every Thursday night my mom and I furtively recognized the tremors and slurred speech in Fox’s character in The Michael J. Fox Show. Today we privately take note as her muscles stiffen and she strains to walk, now forced to use a cane. It hurts to see my mom struggle to drive or limp around the house. Her hands cramp up and prevent her from firmly grasping objects. Limited shoulder, hip, and leg movement preclude her from reaching high shelves, bending over, or crouching down. Knowing how painful it was for my mom to do most physical activities, I quickly took over doing all of the chores and taking care of the family. Without another parent, I was the only one in my house physically capable of tasks such as laundry, cooking, and cleaning. I knew I had to step up and accept full responsibility for our household. I took care of myself and our family when my mom physically couldn’t. Becoming the sole bearer of this task was daunting, but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make. Balancing difficult and demanding art classes and maintaining our household proved to be a challenging tightrope to walk. Many nights I wouldn’t sleep, staying up late to finish paintings for my AP art portfolio after spending the day at school and caring for my mom. Juggling all my responsibilities alone became a monumental undertaking, but I knew there was no way I could cut out art or caring for my mom. My brother still does not understand that she cannot physically do the things she used to. Knowing my brother continues to push my mom to her limits and make her disease worse, I feel the need to double down and do more work for her. My experiences taking care of my mom has fueled multiple art pieces and a passion to succeed in my field for her. My mom used to be an artist too, though now she struggles to hold a pen. She has loved and supported me through so much and I want to support her when she needs me. I draw for the both of us. Nowadays a lot of my art explores my relationship with her in different ways. I write comics about my coming out experience and my mental health. Sharing these stories with her brings us together, and I hope it can do the same when I am able to share them with the world. I can’t always physically be there for my mom. One day I will have to move out. It scares me that once I leave, her Parkinson’s will progress faster since she will be forced to do the strenuous physical activities I did for her. Leaving one day will be unavoidable, but I hope it can wait until after I have graduated. I aim to succeed in college and a career in animation in order to help take care of my mom.

My work is often inspired by mixed media and using my medium to symbolically connect with the meaning of the piece. Exploring unusual materials, like lipstick or peanut butter, are the driving force of my art. I play with the limitations of an unconventional medium and how to use those limitations to elevate the concept of the piece. For example I was inspired by the color limitation of scratchboard so I explored using similar techniques on other easily scratched surfaces like vinyl records. My work also explores the importance of queer history and historical figures through mixed media portraits. I depict historical figures using mediums and unconventional materials that symbolically connect to their life and historical importance. Details of their lives, such as Oscar Wilde’s tomb and Marsha P. Johnson’s struggles with poverty, dictate my medium and symbolically connect my media to the meaning of my work. Sharing the stories of queer historical figures has become a major theme in my art. As a young queer person who doesn’t have queer elders in my life, I look towards our history for reassurance and community. The lives and tribulations of historical figures assure me that I am not alone in my experiences. I aim to inform viewers of the deeply rich and often forgotten history of the queer community. We have existed in every pocket of history from ancient Greece to the Space Race. Though the vocabulary we use to define gender and sexuality continues to evolve, looking back at our history contextualizes the progress we have made and the progress that still must be done. I share the stories of these people in hopes to provide the same reassurance and sense of community that they have brought me to other queer people. Animation is the most impactful way to share stories through art. I am studying animation because I enjoy telling a story through my art. My series on queer history made me realize how important telling a story is to me. The life story of historical figures was the heart of that series. A portrait made of peanut butter loses its meaning without Carver’s agricultural work. Telling the story of their lives guides my artistic decisions about medium, composition, and color. My background as a queer mixed-media artist will help me explore unconventional animation styles to tell compelling stories. Expanding my knowledge of unusual mediums pushes me to tell weirder and more unconventional stories. My ability to work with many mediums and adapt my style and voice will inspire distinct visual styles in animation. I will continue to share the stories of queer history and my own original work as I continue my career.

May I relish in this moment any longer? As the chill dark morning beckons the sun to rise As the soft warm glow of the lamp caresses my face As hushed whispers raise with the sun As fresh fruit fills my belly As I, like the sun, rise Gloriously

On the cramped couch, my mom insisted it was important that my brother and I watch a movie together. She would not explain why it was important to her, but I knew about the doctor’s appointments, the surgery, and her diagnosis. My mom attempted to keep her early-onset Parkinson’s disease diagnosis a secret from my brother and me, but I listened to the hushed conversations between my mom and grandma. So when she turned on Back to the Future, I understood the significance of this moment. My mom slowly introduced my brother to the concept of Parkinson’s through Teen Wolf and Spin City. Every Thursday night my mom and I furtively recognized the tremors and slurred speech in Fox’s character in The Michael J. Fox Show. Today we privately take note as her muscles stiffen and she strains to walk, now forced to use a cane. Seeing my mom struggle to grapple with her own ailment, let alone try to explain it to her children, made me into the responsible and resolute person I am today. It hurts to see my mom struggle to drive or limp around the house. Her hands cramp up and prevent her from firmly grasping objects. Limited shoulder, hip, and leg movement preclude her from reaching high shelves, bending over, or crouching down. Knowing how it pains my mom to do most physical activities, I took over doing all of the chores and taking care of the family. Being the only one in my house physically capable of tasks such as laundry, cooking, and cleaning I knew I had to step up and accept full responsibility for our household. Balancing difficult classes, time-consuming extracurriculars, and maintaining our household proved to be a challenging tightrope to walk. Many nights I would not sleep, staying up late to finish schoolwork since I spent the day caring for my mom. Juggling all my responsibilities alone became a monumental undertaking. Without the help of my brother, it often feels like he does not care about our mom and making her life easier. My brother still does not understand that she cannot physically do the things she used to. Knowing my brother continues to push my mom to her limits and make her disease worse, I feel the need to double down and do more work for her. I cannot always physically be there for my mom. One day I will have to move out. It scares me that once I leave, her Parkinson’s will progress faster since she will be forced to do the strenuous physical activities I did for her. Leaving one day will be unavoidable, but I hope it can wait until after I have graduated. I aim to succeed in college and my career in order to help my mom. By excelling in school and getting a stable job I can financially support my mom and help take care of her. I am unable to do everything for her but I will do everything I can. My mom’s Parkinson’s diagnosis was life altering. I took care of myself and our family when my mom physically could not. Caring for my mom for almost a decade has been exigent. Having to mature into a dependable caretaker at a young age taught me the importance of family and hard work. After college, I aspire to triumph in my field in order to continue supporting my mom. My mom has loved and supported me through so much and I want to support her when she needs me.

My work explores the importance of queer history and historical figures through mixed media portraits. I depict historical figures using mediums and unconventional materials that symbolically connect to their life and historical importance. Details of their lives, such as Oscar Wilde’s tomb and Marsha P. Johnson’s struggles with poverty, dictate my medium and directly connect my art-making process to each subject. I avoid repeating a medium or technique to make each piece visually distinct in order to showcase the various types of lives these people led. This portrait is inspired by Marsha P. Johnson, a transgender drag queen and activist. She faced homelessness and poverty for most of her life and fought to end the extreme financial struggle many trans women face. She founded STAR, a homeless shelter for queer youth, and was involved in the Stonewall Riots, the birth of the mainstream gay rights movement in America. I reflected Johnon’s poverty and camp style through mixed media and objects found at a dollar store. I wanted all the materials to be cheap and something she could have afforded. I used confetti, stickers, beads, and sequins to show the campy, glamorous aspect of Johnson’s drag style. She is known for her elaborate flower crown so I created a floral border with fake flowers. As a young queer person who doesn’t have queer elders in my life, I look towards our history for reassurance and community. The lives and tribulations of historical figures assure me that I am not alone in my experiences. I aim to inform viewers of the deeply rich and often forgotten history of the queer community. We have existed in every pocket of history from ancient Greece to the Space Race. Though the vocabulary we use to define gender and sexuality continues to evolve, looking back at our history contextualizes the progress we have made and the progress that still must be done. I share the stories of these people in hopes to provide the same reassurance and sense of community that they have brought me to other queer people.

On the cramped couch, my mom insisted it was important that my brother and I watch a movie together. She would not explain why it was important to her but I knew. I knew about the doctor’s appointments, the surgery, and her diagnosis. My mom attempted to keep her early-onset Parkinson’s disease diagnosis a secret from my brother and me, then ages eight and ten, but I listened to the hushed conversations between my mom and grandma. So when she turned on Back to the Future, I understood the significance of this moment. My mom slowly introduced my brother to the concept of Parkinson’s through Teen Wolf and Spin City. Every Thursday night my mom and I furtively recognized the tremors and slurred speech in Fox’s character in The Michael J. Fox Show. Today we privately take note as her muscles stiffen and she strains to walk, now forced to use a cane. Seeing my mom struggle to grapple with her own ailment, let alone try to explain it to her children, made me into the responsible and resolute person I am today. It hurts to see my mom struggle to drive or limp around the house. Her hands cramp up and prevent her from firmly grasping objects. Limited shoulder, hip, and leg movement preclude her from reaching high shelves, bending over, or crouching down. Knowing how painful it was for my mom to do most physical activities, I quickly took over doing all of the chores and taking care of the family. Being the only one in my house physically capable of tasks such as laundry, cooking, and cleaning I knew I had to step up and accept full responsibility for our household. Becoming the sole bearer of this task was daunting but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make. Balancing difficult and demanding classes, time-consuming extracurriculars, and maintaining our household proved to be a challenging tightrope to walk. Many nights I would not sleep, staying up late to finish school work since I spent the day caring for my mom. Juggling all my responsibilities alone became a monumental undertaking.Without the help of my brother, it often feels like he does not care about our mom and making her life easier. My brother still does not understand that she cannot physically do the things she used to. Knowing my brother continues to push my mom to her limits and make her disease worse, I feel the need to double down and do more work for her. I cannot always physically be there for my mom. One day I will have to move out, perhaps soon for college. It scares me that once I leave, her Parkinson’s will progress faster since she will be forced to do the strenuous physical activities I did for her. Leaving one day will be unavoidable, but I hope it can wait until after I have graduated. I aim to succeed in college and my career in order to help my mom. By excelling in school and getting a stable job I can financially support my mom and help take care of her. I am unable to do everything for her but I will do everything I can. My mom’s Parkinson’s diagnosis was life altering. I took care of myself and our family when my mom physically could not. Caring for my mom for almost a decade has been exigent. Having to mature into a dependable caretaker at a young age taught me the importance of family and hard work. After college, I aspire to triumph in my field in order to continue supporting my mom. My mom has loved and supported me through so much and I want to support her when she needs me. Though taking care of my mom is demanding, I rose to the challenge because I know she would do the same for me.

My work explores the importance of queer history and historical figures through mixed media portraits. I depict historical figures using mediums and unconventional materials that symbolically connect to their life and historical importance. Details of their lives, such as Oscar Wilde’s tomb and Marsha P. Johnson’s struggles with poverty, dictate my medium and directly connect my art-making process to each subject. I avoid repeating a medium or technique to make each piece visually distinct in order to showcase the various types of lives these people led. As a young queer person who doesn’t have queer elders in my life, I look towards our history for reassurance and community. The lives and tribulations of historical figures assure me that I am not alone in my experiences. I aim to inform viewers of the deeply rich and often forgotten history of the queer community. We have existed in every pocket of history from ancient Greece to the Space Race. Though the vocabulary we use to define gender and sexuality continues to evolve, looking back at our history contextualizes the progress we have made and the progress that still must be done. I share the stories of these people in hopes to provide the same reassurance and sense of community that they have brought me to other queer people. I will continue sharing queer stories as an animator and comic illustrator. The stories I write and want to tell focus on the importance of found family and identity. Those themes are fundamental to my existence as a queer person. Sharing my personal experiences with others will show that being queer does not mean being alone. My work will continue to reassure others that a happy, queer life is possible because of the strength and resilience of our community.

The pandemic has forced me to work harder and achieve greater things. I live with my disabled mother and grandma so during my senior year of high school I chose to attend school virtually. With less time in the classroom, I forced myself to make bold decisions and experiment with unusual art mediums such as beet juice, lipstick, and bananas just to name a few. The pandemic limited my access to classroom resources so I embraced the freedom of not working in a conventional classroom by focusing my portfolio on mixed media portraits. Working in this way forced me to reevaluate my artistic process, make more thoughtful decisions, and form deeper meanings in my art. By taking risks and excelling in two art classes, I was rewarded as the best art student of the year. My hard work made me question why I am so passionate about art and truly confirmed I want to pursue a career in animation.

On the cramped couch, my mom insisted it was important that my brother and I watch a movie together. She would not explain why it was important to her but I knew. I knew about the doctor’s appointments, the surgery, and her diagnosis. My mom attempted to keep her early-onset Parkinson’s disease diagnosis a secret from my brother and me, then ages eight and ten, but I listened to the hushed conversations between my mom and grandma. So when she turned on Back to the Future, I understood the significance of this moment. My mom slowly introduced my brother to the concept of Parkinson’s through Teen Wolf and Spin City. Every Thursday night my mom and I furtively recognized the tremors and slurred speech in Fox’s character in The Michael J. Fox Show. Today we privately take note as her muscles stiffen and she strains to walk, now forced to use a cane. Seeing my mom struggle to grapple with her own ailment, let alone try to explain it to her children, made me into the responsible and resolute person I am today. It hurts to see my mom struggle to drive or limp around the house. Her hands cramp up and prevent her from firmly grasping objects. Limited shoulder, hip, and leg movement preclude her from reaching high shelves, bending over, or crouching down. Knowing how painful it was for my mom to do most physical activities, I took over doing all of the chores and taking care of the family. Being the only one in my house physically capable of tasks such as laundry, cooking, and cleaning I had to step up and accept full responsibility for our household. Becoming the sole bearer of this task was daunting but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make.

My work explores the importance of queer history and historical figures through mixed media portraits. I depict historical figures using mediums and unconventional materials that symbolically connect to their life and historical importance. Details of their lives, such as Oscar Wilde’s tomb and Marsha P. Johnson’s struggles with poverty, dictate my medium and directly connect my art-making process to each subject. I avoid repeating a medium or technique to make each piece visually distinct in order to showcase the various types of lives these people led. My work always begins with extensive research on the subject. Documentaries, biographies, interviews, and work written by the historical figure are the driving force of my work. Once I have researched my subject, I experiment with my medium and its application. Since my work is mixed media my approach to making a piece is never the same. I start by learning the basics of my medium, such as sewing or scratch board. I then explore the limitations of my material and how to use those limitations to elevate the concept of the piece. For example I was inspired by the color limitation of scratchboard, so I explored using similar techniques on other easily scratched surfaces like vinyl records. As a young queer person who doesn’t have queer elders in my life, I look towards our history for reassurance and community. The lives and tribulations of historical figures assure me that I am not alone in my experiences. I aim to inform viewers of the deeply rich and often forgotten history of the queer community. We have existed in every pocket of history from ancient Greece to the Space Race. Though the vocabulary we use to define gender and sexuality continue to evolve, looking back at our history contextualizes the progress we have made and the progress that still must be done. I share the stories of these people in hopes to provide the same reassurance and sense of community that they have brought me to other queer people. I use my art to connect and remember our history. I believe art is important to preserve and commentate current events when words fail to properly express our feelings. History classes will never be able to capture the love and suffering the historical figures I paint have faced. My art expresses the lives of these people in more meaningful ways than documentaries and textbooks. Without art we lose what brings people and new ideas together. Art forces you to see the world in new ways.