Taylor

Taylor

A comic I made for Becca’s school newspaper a little bit ago

A comic I made for Becca’s school newspaper a little bit ago

trulyy:

What it’s been lately/iPhone pics

What it’s been lately/iPhone pics

HELLO ALL OF MY FELLOW SAIC/CHICAGO PEOPLEEEEE!!!
I will be selling a remake of this zine at the art sale next weekend! It won’t be an exact replica but it will be pretty similar. New work will be included. I’ll be selling it for $5! 

HELLO ALL OF MY FELLOW SAIC/CHICAGO PEOPLEEEEE!!!

I will be selling a remake of this zine at the art sale next weekend! It won’t be an exact replica but it will be pretty similar. New work will be included. I’ll be selling it for $5! 

untitled on Flickr.Lexi

untitled on Flickr.

Lexi

trulyy:

my image within an image project with my artist statement:

My father is a quiet man. He keeps to himself, he asks questions but never answers them.  He is a father in black and white, a cookie cut out, an outline. Very basic and lacks detail. He does what is right with an occasional wrong here and there, I suppose. He’s just Al, and he likes to keep it that way.

I inhabit some of my fathers tendencies and quirks, more so than I do my mother’s. I can be silent, I can run away from any type of exposure, I keep secrets, as do most. So I understand a little bit of my father’s introversion. My father was a soldier in the Vietnam War from 1964 to 1967, but I had no knowledge of this until I found pictures that documented a little bit of his time there in my mother’s closet. I was about nine or ten when I found these pictures but confronting him about them didn’t result in any sort of emotional storytelling. In fact, he never talks about his time spent over in Vietnam the same way he never speaks of anything else personal to him.

I know a common stereotype of men is that they display little emotion or can be somewhat closed off, but somewhat closed off is almost an understatement for my father. Its frustrating for me to know so little about someone that I’m so close to. So, when creating these images I tried to take the energy behind my frustration and put it towards an effort to achieve my own comprehension. A way to break down the disconnection between me and my father. I think if you truly want to know or understand something then you’ll try to become a part of it. With this series of photographs, I’m trying to depict my attempt to understand something by immersing or submerging myself into it.

Somehow I forgot to post this here.

Anyway, I’ve created a “bodies of work” link so you can look through all of the series I’ve done/still working on. Just trying to clean this site up a bit. 

installation view of this

a continuation of this

that will soon accompany the rest of this

a continuation of this

that will soon accompany the rest of this

a work in progress

a continuation/remake of this

that will then accompany the rest of this 

this is a work in progress. this statement is too:

A more in depth exploration with my frustrations to find the liberty to construct my identity, is the purpose for this body of work. The opportunity to fully grasp this liberty in its entirety is something that is not of my privilege. The heavy pre constructed definition that lies within my African American subjectivity, is the reasoning for this limited access. However this brand of frustration involves many avenues. And the avenue that occupies my focus is African American culture and my experience with it. The argument of cultural appropriation and how it is highly frowned upon by most, is something that intrigues me and also helped to inspire this work. I’m even more intrigued by how I place myself in this argument. Or at least my incapability to do so.  

There is a gray area between wanting to embrace your culture yet also feeling compelled to wear it as a uniform. This dichotomy is what I am trying to bring to display. This debate sparked a realization of the exclusivity that culture is capable of. I can’t help but feel as though there are rules set in place for me to follow, expectations to live up to. I want to be able to celebrate my culture, but I am unsure if the desire to do so is created from this feeling of constraint. I have the questions but it’s the uncertainty of the answers’ existence that troubles me. My battle with trying to find a real place in the discussion of appropriation in a way creates a sense of invisibility for me. Which is both interesting and serves as another layer to the foundation of my intent; the need to be placed within, in contrast to building my own place separate from any precedented structure.

trulyy:

What it’s been lately/iPhone pics

Camille being a fog queen for me yesterday :)

new things I’m working on.

a continuation of Black Girl, but specifically focusing on African American culture and my ambivalence towards it.