This piece was inspired by the year of horse. 🐎 "马到成功"
It’s funny - My cousins and I had this talk which made me realize, that "success" is not just a status but more about "fulfillment ". I don’t know how other feels but I personally find fulfillment when I finish a painting that gives me a lot of struggle.
I guess the message is: "we can ride it on a common path, it’s faster to get there. But when it does take time, we might feel it compete for a different way."
To go along with yesterday's comic about the elusive model ship builder who crafted the majority of pieces in the Ships of the Sea Maritime Museum, here's my accompanying Artist Statement. This piece articulates some themes I've been chewing on for a long time, digging into the complexity of revering symbols that have radically different connotations for different groups, pushing back on the assumption that handcrafts and niche hobbies are dying out, and making space for grief and humanity within the confines of institutional displays. Enjoy!
The Scale of a Man: Artist Statement
I joined the crew of my first tall ship at seventeen. I know more than most the temptation to cast a vessel as the hero of the story, but it’s a lie. We name them, adorn them, and rely on them, but ultimately ships are tools enlivened by the people who use them. They encompass exploration and cultural exchange, escape and immigration, enslavement and genocide. Rather than flattening the ship into a hero, I want to examine the ship as a vessel in every sense of the word, one brimming with discoveries and losses alike.
In her essay The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, Ursula K. Le Guin invites us to explore the implication of the container as the oldest human invention. What would it mean to acknowledge that we have carried sustenance and stories in baskets, nets, and bottles for far longer than we have centered narratives around a Hero’s Journey built on aggression and conquest? “It’s hard,” she admits, “to tell a really gripping tale of how I wrested a wild-oat seed from its husk, and then another, and then another, and then another, and then another—” but the essay encourages us to try.
Whether framing the hull of a ship or the panels of a story, we delineate the things we love. It is an affection that cannot be rushed. I was lucky enough to learn from many model ship builders in the course of creating this piece. Their generosity, enthusiasm, and expertise helped me appreciate what’s poured into each miniature vessel, and to recall something I need to keep close in my own practice: there is value in doing things that defy efficiency. These are fields where monotony walks hand in hand with craft. Some people throw their hands up and bemoan the death of such practices in the age of AI, but I believe we’re headed toward a resurgence in valuing the things machines cannot do.
There is nothing more human than dying. Steeped in my own grief at the loss of my father, I found my way into a story that took me places I couldn’t have foreseen. Early in the research process, I read that the colonists aboard the Anne slept below decks in suspended wooden cots—their similarity to coffins a reminder of how often such voyages become a passage to the underworld. Every journey requires a type of death. We leave behind our former selves, hoping to meet some new incarnation on the farther shore, but the past always comes with us in one guise or another.
We don’t know what became of the Anne in the end; her own death, whatever that means for a vessel, went undocumented. Sometimes such losses are inevitable. But the containers we build, whether they be ships, comics, or museums, offer us a chance to see ourselves woven into the minutiae of the past. It is a form of immortality, one that relies on engagement, imagination, and tenderness, and it is always worth reaching for.
now that im not getting harassed every other fucking day. i am so back to full tralalalalamaxxing
im trying to contact jackfilms >m< he's someone who.... actually is vocal about wanting to support small creators. so,. i think he will really fucking enjoy finding out about me. ive been watching his bad reactor bingo and its honestly so refreshing to see someone so passionate about cupporting artists.
see, im not a "creator" i dont "make content"
im an artist. blogging in a fucking artform. if it wasn't before, it is now. and now you will all retrospectively look at tumblr heritage posts with this knowlege.
anyway, even if he doesn't want to #collab with me (but llike..... what. why the fuck wouldnt you want to be a part of this?)
in his video he said that we as creators must come together if we want to put a stop to youtube supporting those reaction channels. im not a youtuber. i don't make money for ad revenue. i cant wait to get to 500 subscribers so i can turn off ads on my channel *o* glmeeb
he also said "sometimes you come across a creator with an irrepricatable vibe. who really brings something new"
hahahahhahaahhahahahahah
dude. wait until he gets a yaoi of spltlvlhous.
destiel otp _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): phermit gurom <- now everyone following spnphanblr tags have to see this too. >:))))))))). p h e r m i t
Apostatic Redundancy - Artist Statement and Images, up to March 2026 (Still in Progress)
Artist Statement - Apostatic Redundancy
“Apostatic Redundancy” is a digital painting series telling the story of the conquest of an alien world and the subsequent genocide and destruction of native culture on that planet by the imperialist regime colonizing it. This narrative takes the form of multiple digital pieces in 4K resolution.
My work is intended to communicate my own strongly held beliefs on anti-capitalism, anti-imperialism, anti-fascism, and anti-colonialism, as well as to reflect my own struggles both as a transgender woman living in the United States under the Trump administration waiting for the inevitable end to come to me at the hands of a genocidal regime, and as an indigenous person stripped of my identity and culture by colonization, racism, and americanization by my white household. That white household is what introduced me to science fiction as a genre; growing up with films like Star Wars and Starship Troopers. By taking a genre historically dominated by white authors, artists, and filmmakers, I hope to subvert the expectation of lukewarm, tongue-in-cheek liberalism and communicate my ardently leftist ideals without fear of censorship, misinterpretation, or suppression by stakeholders, a privilege individual artists possess that industrial artists do not have.
Apostatic Redundancy features images of futuristic Wehrmacht soldiers wielding incredibly American looking firearms, inspired by the U.S. military’s arsenal, with masks obscuring their humanity and creating the image of the uncaring, unfeeling force. It features images of mechanical death and genocide, of the destruction of previously untarnished nature, and of overwhelming power and military might raining hellfire and abuse upon a far less technologically advanced civilization, drawing direct inspiration from the era of the conquistador and the documentation of the conquest of South American Indigenous communities by the Spanish.
My work is meant to make you feel shocked, horrified, and dismayed. It utilizes far more advanced digital rendering techniques than my previous work, taking full advantage of 3D objects and lighting programs. It responds to the contemporary science fiction scene with its own assertions of how an imperial force in a distant future might operate, based on the actions of modern empires. While I am inspired by George Lucas (Star Wars), William Gibson (Neuromancer), Ridley Scott (Blade Runner), and Mike Pondsmith (Cyberpunk), I also hope to stand apart from their works and improve upon the foundation they’ve built for me.
Apostatic Redundancy is meant to be less a showing of entertaining imagery and more a reflection of the awe and horror that is colonial warfare, upon the backdrop of Science Fiction.
I am a multimedia artist living in NYC. In my lifetime of mental health struggles, art has been a multifaceted tool of expression, meditation. Abstract visuals have a particular hold on me, with overlapping patterns and textures in vibrant, over-saturated colors becoming manifestations of what I cannot articulate in words.
Art builds upon what came before it, and my work in particular builds upon the traditions of Informalism, Op Art, and Geometric Abstraction.
People often call my art "eyestrain," which I wear as a badge of pride. My art is a visceral experience.
Look upon my Works, ye Mighty, and squint!
If you'd like a particular piece as a print/poster/etc and it isn't already on redbubble, please reblog it and let me know!
