Interrupted Narratives is a project rooted in reflection that explores memory, political transition, and immigration. The 26 included paintings are a transnational and intergenerational collection of memories developed from an archive of family photographs. This archive is used as a mechanism for understanding the past, for understanding the interruptions that have shaped where I am today.

The title is inspired by Zdenka Badovinac’s Interrupted Histories, which presents individual histories that cannot be categorized within the west-centric canon as well as those that have been purposefully excluded from it. She recognizes the falsely constructed continuities of art history and states that “interruption is in fact the only constant we can find in various times and places.”

Interrupted Narratives embraces spaces beyond the collective narrative and highlights the continuous interruptions of those spaces. It explores the intergenerational presence of certain histories and how they shape identity. 

Interrupted Narratives is an exploration of how the recognition of difficult histories can provide space for restoration, how understanding can lead to rebuilding. 

Location

I have lived on the street adjacent to the Red Rock Overlook Regional Park for most of my life. The forest has always been an extremely special place for my family.

an escape from suburbia,

a place to breath and heal, especially this year.

I found it important to allow my paintings to exist beyond the walls of my home. To give them and their narratives a chance to breath.

Heading into this semester I planned for my works to be installed in an accessible public space. I had no idea that I would still be in Virginia at that time, but am grateful that I had the chance to present my works in a public space that I am so connected to. 

I chose to install my paintings in a quiet and seemingly forgotten clearing,

one where I have spent significant time over the past couple of years. 

To enter the area, a decaying wooden bridge leads to a steep incline. 

at the top there is an undisturbed and overgrown area,

covered in in tiny wildflowers and new sprouts. 

After installing my works I set up small QR codes around the forest, hoping to draw in some curious visitors.

When approaching the space you could see small white squares in the distance. 

Small cutouts or interruptions to the landscape. 

You could only uncover the paintings by approaching them, 

by confronting them.

I spent 12 hours sitting with my paintings. 

I found many ticks crawling on me,

had some deer visitors,

and listened to the space for the longest I ever had.

Materials

Throughout my first few years at Pitzer, I struggled with the contradiction of my Environmental Analysis and Studio Arts education. I often used toxic materials with oil painting and endless paper for sketches and practice. Over the years this guilt of an unsustainable practice has left me with giant stacks of old materials and a hoarding issue. 

This past year has allowed me to reflect, slow down, and completely transform my practice. I have ditched all toxic mediums for my paintings, I repurpose old linens instead of ordering new canvas. When I have scrap canvas or linen, I borrow thread from my grandmother to stitch it together. I even decided to recycle that big stack of projects and make my own paper for sketches. 

My thesis has been an expansion of this exploration into materials. The gesso I have used on the canvas is my own mixture of plant-based binder, titanium oxide, and limestone powder.  All of the exhibited paintings are made from natural pigments and safflower oil, and the red pigment in some is made from red rock clay.