Making art is my path of engaged Buddhism–the radical act of creating beauty and using imagination to point the way to a better world.
Why is the erotic, something so fundamental, powerful, and pleasurable criminalized, censored, and shamed? Because, if let loose it threatens to tear down the house which whiteness built.
I can’t capture the entirety of queer experience in any single work or art. But, I can strive, one step at a time, one canvas at a time, to tell better stories than what I had in my formative years.
My art is a celebration of the erotic not just for pleasure alone, but pleasure as activism, pleasure as pathway to liberation.
The gay erotic surrealism of Burrough’s hyper-masculine hero John Carter unpacked through the medium of a new oil painting
As nativism and fascist politics are on the rise everywhere, a heroine like Modesty is more vital and relevant than ever
Making art is grabbing some inchoate idea from the ether and trying wrestle it into physical existence. Always failing, really, but never stopping.
Imagine, if you will, our own queer, smutty twittergram where we share our work and our thoughts without fear of algorithmic erasure, trolls, or weaponized reports.
Like a walk in a garden, you catch a glimpse of delicate creature coyly flirting with visibility among the flowers. You feel a brief spark that invites a longer look and maybe leaves a gently joyous, lingering sensation.
Why is sex, and the erotic in general, segregated in our storytelling?