A sanctuary is a place of refuge or safety.
 
“Space can be tangible, a material geography created through processes of mapping and demarcation. Space can be impalpable, sustained by ideas, beliefs, and practices that define identities and establish invisible, yet powerful boundaries. Space is everywhere. It surrounds us like air and, just as organically inhaling and exhaling, establishes the dynamic expansive and constricting context for life and death. Human beings attempt to locate and structure space as space locates and structures human beings.”
Aimee Meredith Cox, Gender: Space (2018)
 
For as long as I can remember, my spaces where I create work have always had an intense impact on the work that I make. Being stuck in my apartment over the duration of this quarantine is no exception to that. As much as I transform spaces, spaces transform me. 

Neill and I moved into our 3rd floor apartment on 13th Street in Center City Philadelphia in June of 2019, and the apartment (to our benefit!) has ten foot ceilings and eight large five-foot windows. We decided not to purchase window curtains because of the added cost. Curtains would have also blocked our view of the mural Sanctuary by artist (and PAFA Alumni) James Burns that can be seen from six of our eight windows.

James Burns, Sanctuary, Mural: 13th and Chancellor Streets,
Center City Philadelphia, Mural Arts Philadelphia, 2016. (View from my apartment)

This wellness mural was designed to raise mental health awareness in the community and to help support clarity of the mind and movement of the hand. Being my sole view for the past 29 days, this mural has had an impact on my day to day experience and my work. I often feel that I am very lucky to have such a great view from my apartment; I could have easily been stuck staring at a brick wall. I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. With over 3,600 murals within the city of Philadelphia, this mural was placed in my life for a reason, and now I’m beginning to pay attention to it. 
            
In the midst of this pandemic, those of us who are fortunate enough to have a space, find ourselves at home, in our own sanctuaries. They are keeping us safe. 
           
In response, and in addition to my other projects, I have begun creating a new installation of "curtains” in my apartment. These "wing curtains" are to act as a mediator; a mediator between the interior and exterior; between sun and shade; between object and wind; between trapped and escaped; between reality and imagination; between the outside world and me. A mediator between sanctuary and freedom. Redefining the security of a window as a place of passage. The wing as an icon for freedom; the space as sanctuary.
         
Ideally I would envision this installation to be displayed in window frames with the windows open or missing; the "wing curtain" as a symbol for freedom existing between sanctuary and the outside world. The installation is a collision between my own desires and the elements of my space. I've decided to also title this in-progress work Sanctuary because of the direct conversation it is having with Burns' mural, and because it accurately describes the space in which I find myself, and possible the space in which many of us find ourselves at this time.

This installation was originally conceived to be displayed in a domestic space, but it is my hope that the dynamic of the work allows it to exist in any space. In this time, I have given a lot of thought as to what it would mean for this work to exist outside of my apartment. Ideally (and hopefully sometime soon) I would like to reach out and make pieces of this project accessible to others and to people and places that do not normally have access to artwork, especially at this time. It could act as a reminder that they are not alone – that their wing window is one of many; a community of people recognizing their separation from the world we knew within their own sanctuary, with a hope for safe passage in the future. 
         
As I was preparing to start making these “curtains” I felt a shift in the way that I address my materials take place. Normally, I shop for the right colors and fabrics to use; using them “out of the tube” so to speak. This time, I felt a sense of needing ownership over my materials. I’m starting to think more about the fabrics I am using; how they look, how they move, how they work together or against each other, how these particular fabrics work with the space, etc. In earlier installations, I was mostly concerned with color and shape. I do not have control over what is happening in the world, but I do have control over how  I decide to make my work. I recall a studio critique I had with artist Elizabeth Jaeger last year; she had encouraged me to dye my own fabrics; take ownership over every aspect of my work; communicate what my fabrics might look like. 
           
This piece will represent a sanctuary wherever it is displayed. A safe space riddled with longing for what lies on the outside. It does not always have to be in direct contact with the mural - but I like recognizing that the mural was a part of the inspiration for the work - a part of the space it was conceived in. I am hoping that work can take on a life of its own as it evolves - also retaining a notion of the time period in which it was made; a time when the outside world was so desirable, but so unpredictable and scary. Our homes our prisons, but also our safe spaces.
           
I think it’s important not to discount small things that affect moments of our lives. I could say it is coincidence that I landed in this apartment with this particular wellness based mural at a time when we are all struggling with our mental health states in our own little sanctuaries. But I believe in connections; in threads coming together to form a certain thing. I’m trying to recognize those threads and allow them to communicate through my work. As we are in places of limited inspiration and experiences, I encourage others to find inspiration in the small things that happen day to day; they could add up to something meaningful if you allow them a chance to grow.
          
​This all comes to say, that I’m glad we never bought curtains; and, despite the circumstances, I’m excited to be working on something new in a space that I never thought I would be making art in. :)

Artist Lucia Hierro visited PAFA in February of last year and shared an important message through her stories and her work that I have never forgotten. A message that has inspired me to see things in a different perspective -  where we do not give up, we do not compromise, we move on and through. 
 
Lucia Hierro is a Bronx-based artist, who creates “sculptures and work as an analyses of personal narratives. Hierro’s work explores the body as a collection of fragmented signifiers that include language, taste, and culture” that are representative of our place in time. (www.luciahierro.com. Web. 25 Mar. 2020) During her presentation with the Visiting Artist’s Program at PAFA she talked particularly about her shifts between studio spaces and figuring out how to make large-scale work while lacking the ideal space to do so. The series of work titled Mercado started in a space that was not ideal for large work. In the end, she found creative solutions while staying true to her vision. This became the body of work for her first solo exhibition at Elizabeth Dee Gallery in Harlem, New York.
 
The COVID-19 Pandemic has forced many artists out of their normal working environments (myself included) and studio spaces putting stress on studio practices and changes to the way that they create work. Prior to studios closing and the stay at home orders, I had started my ASE Thesis Piece (details in previous blog post) - which just so happens to be my biggest work (in progress) to date. Unfortunate timing - maybe; maybe not.

During this time, I'm learning a lot about how to sustain my art practice outside of the school environment. While I wish that we were all able to be in school right now, continuing our program as it normally would go; I'm trying to find ways to grow through this experience - however impossible that may seem. I have no idea what kind of studio space I will have (if any) after I graduate, so I'm taking this as an opportunity to learn how to large work in a small space. I do not plan on compromising. I plan on making it work - and making changes to my process to make it happen. 

My wing pattern is approximately 45 feet from tip to tip - this poses a particular challenge in an apartment where our longest wall is maybe 15 feet long. However frustrating it might be, I’m figuring out ways to work with it in the space, one section at a time. 

I think it's important for artists to be flexible. And being flexible doesn't mean compromising. Those are two different things. I am not giving up any part of this work that I value - I am only letting its creation be more fluid; more flexible to the situation at hand; which really is what should be happening anyway.
 
I have faith that artists will find a way, we always have. 
Stay in, but keep moving!
​:)

So, I'm in my second semester of my final year as an MFA student at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, and we had to vacate our studios for a minimum of 3 weeks due to the new coronavirus outbreak. At first, I was devastated; how could I continue to work if I didn't have my studio...as much as I understand and respect the need for this to happen, it comes at a very vulnerable and formative time in my development as an artist; and I am certainly not alone.

After the initial shock set in and just as quickly passed, my partner and fellow artist Neill and I started brainstorming ways to transform our space. If there's one thing we're good at (besides art), it's problem solving. We live in a small one bedroom apartment in Center City Philadelphia and both make large work. We decided to convert the bedroom into a studio and move the bed to the living room. (Luckily we never invested in a bed frame, so all we had to move was the mattress). We are pushing forward, working on our thesis, planning and beginning to work on our projects keeping in mind that they need to be made in a way that is easy to transport, etc. At first this all seemed impossible, but were are "Making it Work" (thanks Tim Gunn). We have been binge watching seasons of Project Runway during the evenings over the past couple of weeks, and I swear it was a heaven sent in order to prepare us for the mindset for what was to come.

​Luckily, the day before the studio closures were announced, I was able to try out my life-size pattern for my ASE (Annual Student Exhibition) piece that will be exhibited at PAFA (date TBD) as my final installation as a graduate student. I am making a pair of large wings for the exhibition using a few different fabrics and upholstery foam. These wings come from a dream that I have consistently, and from a lifetime of viewing winged creatures (real and fantasy) as symbols of strength, transformation, and freedom. The large scale was chosen to correlate with the architecture of the space, and the amount of impact the piece can have during your first encounter with it. The installation as a whole is meant to represent a shift between childhood and adulthood; a shift between art and architecture; between reality and fantasy, and between stability and falling. I was so happy to see it in the space; I plan to make adjustments to the size of the feathers, and overall shape, but am thankful that I was able to see it before the building closed. I'm now using my living room wall to make changes and adjust. I also have goals for this piece to be able to transform to fit into any space it is exhibited in; I'm making it in pieces so it can be disassembled, reassembled, changed, added to, taken away from, etc; you get the picture :)

I want to continue to share my work and process with others, so this blog is going to be a platform for that. 

 A reminder to my artist friends and anyone reading this - NEVER give up; push forward. Together, we are strong. Oh, and wash those hands! :) Let's all play our part in keeping our community and ourselves healthy and safe. 

"I had the dream again last night...I was looking at my Memaw's swimming pool, the water was blue and sparkling, but the sun was not out. The sky was filled with gray clouds and white mist. I wanted to jump into the water. When I tried to jump in, I was lifted far above and far beyond the water, until it became a spec in my peripheral vision. I was above the pool, above the house, above the fields. I reached up to touch the mist that lay just above my head..." 

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Pattern Test Day! School of Fine Arts Gallery, PAFA

Pattern Test Day! School of Fine Arts Gallery, PAFA

Pattern Test Day! School of Fine Arts Gallery, PAFA

Pattern Test Day! School of Fine Arts Gallery, PAFA

Material Test/Wing Swatch!

The Almighty Studio Guard Cat - Miss Princess Boo. 

Thanks for reading, Stay Tuned!