12x16 Resin coated acrylic/ canvas/ glitter/ glass.
She used to call on me out of nowhere in a packed room, full of wisdom that intimidated me. She would laugh, and say to me “Tell me what that giant rainbow aura of yours is transmuting this into.”
Honestly, I could have blacked out from the stress, but managed to keep my responses lawful. When I was a girl I had white rollerblades, with pink and seafoam green pads, and yellow laces. My Dad used to tell me his favorite memory of me was seeing me skate around in circles, holding five lit sparklers in each hand on the 4th of July. I wonder if he can still see that moment in time. Whatever, wherever he is now. And wherever, whatever I am now too for that matter.
I think we all have light coming out of our fingertips and it has the power to create or destroy. I’ve always been a prism of color on fire, trying to figure out how to be, and hating myself for being so awkward and sensitive.
Through it all I preserved that nine-year-old - in her rollerblades, with all that fire left in my core. Sounds a little self-indulgent really but I know my story. You wouldn’t argue.
Like stars, in synchronicity with the scars, absorbing too much for one life and bending it into a way to put out light, and a message, regardless of the cost.
I get burnt out making art, but I don’t know how to rest. So I thought I’d practice, for a while, making pieces that 9-year-old me would feel preserved, at home, and safe with. I know that’s who everything I make comes from, anyway.
