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Over his twenty-five-plus year career, Derrick Adams has examined and celebrated the complexities of black life and culture in America. Much of his work centers around an investigation of the humanity of black bodies explored through their universal experiences of leisure, celebration, and play. In doing this, Adams aims to present a holistic rendering of black life.

Adams' sculpture, Fun Time Unicorns, is firmly built atop his belief that Relaxation and play can be revolutionary acts, especially when performed by those traditionally excluded from acts of leisure. Further, Black joy, love, and play should be normalized in American popular culture. This interactive sculpture was created to promote social engagement and play, invoking the idea of Blackness as magical, colorful, mystical, free-spirited, and deserving of protection.

Reminiscent of Jeff Koons's "Celebration' series, Fun Time Unicorns is inspired by Children's toys and blow-up balloon animals. The iconic Unicorn, represented in the interactive sculpture, is a continuation of the artist's celebrated Floater series, more specifically the piece Floater 80 (Self-Portrait). The floater series features Black people relaxing and enjoying leisurely moments atop inflatable pool floats in residential swimming pools. The black unicorn figure was birthed from this series, then manifested into a life-size pool float, and eventually into its current iteration as Funtime Unicorns.

The unveiling of this sculpture at Rockefeller Center coincides with the launching of the artist's Edition business and an accompanying website where consumers can purchase editions of the artist's work directly from his studio. As the sole owner of this business, Adams is taking control of his product. The Funtime Unicorn's edition will be similar to the sculpture in Channel Gardens and will be released as an edition of 30, with 10 AP. With this endeavor, Adams is exploring avenues outside of the gallery models to engage collectors and fans of his practice and continue to expand his footprint in an ever-transforming art market.

Emann Odufu - Nowadays, a lot of artists are talking about showcasing black people in leisure as a form of protest. This is a concept I came to through engaging with your work. The first time I saw your work in person was the Floater Series, which showed at Project For Empty Space in Newark, NJ, in 2016.

Then I met you a couple of months afterward in Philly, touring the public art installation "In Search of the Truth" when you were doing a mural for Philly Mural Arts. This past year, I've been writing and interviewing various artists, some of whom have taken great inspiration from your work, specifically this idea of celebrating black leisure and play as a revolutionary act. So, I'm curious about how this concept of leisure and play became a focal point in your practice and what were some of the things that inspired you to pursue this concept.

Derrick Adams - Probably starting in 2010, ideas around this subject matter and theme came into a more refined voice. It came from a desire to see a certain level of normalcy depicted in black life in art. I was interested in how I could play a role in establishing that visual narrative through my creative output. I was looking around at the overall landscape of what was being made by black artists and the conversations surrounding the work of my peers and what they were interested in. I was thinking about my position as an artist and what I could offer through my perspective of looking at black culture in a way that was not as easily accessible at first glance. When you think about leisure or the idea of normalcy or relaxation, that doesn't always trigger such a visceral response as images of protest or politics.

Images not showing black people pushing against something or depicting "the struggle" automatically refers to the idea that it may not be political. Because what I decided to create was not a dominant visual voice at the time, I felt compelled to go in that direction because I felt that it should be more of a prominent conversation within contemporary art. Especially looking at the younger generation and how to position them to be prepared to deal with society on their terms. I was thinking about what the black people I know do daily and what that would look like in art. As a black community, we have always been involved in protests or some level of socio-political unrest and challenges. I think it's important for creative people to look at those struggles and present that to the world. Still, I also believe there is a place to broaden and even complicate Blackness's narrative by introducing other ways of looking at us.

As Americans, we can't help but be part of this idea of the American dream. You work, then you enjoy the benefits of it. That could mean a vacation or some level of reset. Those things as a Black person are amplified even more as a political position. So my constant motivation in my studio is how to present these things that are not very difficult to conjure up and that I find through looking around me and tapping into my community. I tap into it through understanding the people around me and all they have contributed and received from black culture. I'm constantly thinking about putting that into the world and giving the future generation the option to look at art from that perspective.

EO - I read somewhere that the Floater series was partly inspired by photographs of MLK and Coretta Scott King on vacation in Jamaica. Why were these photos so significant to you?

DA - I just started thinking about political figures like MLK, Malcolm X, Coretta Scott King, and Betty Shabazz. I started thinking about them as individuals, mothers, fathers, or brothers and sisters. I started thinking about the things they did between the struggles and the protests. Through research, I began uncovering images of Malcolm with swim trunks and then of MLK and his wife on vacation in Jamaica.

These are not images presented at the top of any Google search of these public figures. So that automatically motivated me to dig deeper. To know that these individuals, who are considered the pioneers of civil rights and who made major sacrifices for us, also had moments of reset and Relaxation while still being incredibly important figures. This cemented everything I think about when I think about the importance of representing people at leisure. It is a significant way of looking at the multidimensionality of black people.

EO - You mentioned that a lot of your work is inspired by your experiences and the people you've met. I read that your first gig was being a teacher at an elementary school, even before you went to Pratt. Do you think that experience of working with children translated into the formation of your practice?

DA - Yeah, of course; I think being an educator - because I also teach at Brooklyn College now - makes you aware of the systematic structure of learning. You understand things from a very fundamental position. You start being aware of what's in the textbooks, the illustrations, and how current the publication is. You're presenting these things to young minds at a very particular time when these are their introductions into American culture. These things also sparked a lot of my interests and direction in art making because I realized that you could redirect and reroute various conversations that spawn from visual language and visual iconography as an artist. Especially if you think about how you want people to view themselves or the community around them. So, teaching gave me a sense of how people see, or the way people understand, based on access or lack of access to images or cultures that will help advance their understanding on a broader level.

As a visual artist, there are things that I want to see as a black person in the world when I go to exhibitions at a museum or a gallery. There are images of Black people in certain settings that appeal more to me. When you think about figurative works containing the black figure, it is more about imagination. It's about really imagining a place where you are in charge and where you are the primary subject, and where you can create any illusion of reality that you want, and this is where you can do it. Maybe this reality you're conjuring up could be happening somewhere, and it could be influential in some ways through your imagination. Putting it in the world might make things exist in a way you envision just by putting it out there. Visual art overall is such a tool of higher learning. The way it operates, you don't even know you're learning. It puts seeds in your head in your brain that grow into other ways of looking at yourself and looking at people you encounter and people who may or may not understand the reference points that you may be putting in the world as an artist. 

EO - Can you elaborate on this symbol of the Unicorn in your work, specifically its connection to the Floater series?

DA - A lot of my work has evolved out of ideas that spawn from other ideas. That's how I work. I don't want to overthink the outcome. The Unicorn figure came from a continuous process within the Floaters series when I was first working off images of actual floats. I would buy them from the store and use them in drawings. So, it was more about accuracy and capturing the absurdity of the objects you could buy. I didn't want to make a float because it was more about using the commercialism of what is attached to the actual images in context with the figures. As I started working through it more, I realized that with the direction the work was going, the idea of fantasy became more of a possibility. This is because I was drawing these cartoonish objects. One day I was making a white Unicorn float, and I just said this Unicorn is not even real, so why does it have to be white. It's a mythological or even made-up image. No one has ever seen one, so why is it white? Why can't it be something else? So, the black Unicorn came out of the idea of just seeing something one way and having the ability as an artist to change the narrative simply by changing the color tone. That slight change brought in this idea of politicizing the Unicorn itself just by changing the color of the Unicorn from white to black.

Eventually, I realized that the Unicorn could operate in many different iterations. First, it was a small sculpture, and now it's a spring ride. I think it's almost become a branding thing for me, as a way of reflecting who I am or what I believe in. The Black Unicorn became a symbol of Blackness as a very magical and mystical thing with many mysteries intertwined with what you perceive it to be. The Black Unicorn is very freeing for me to use repeatedly in many ways because I feel like it's more of a declaration for me as a maker, and so I'm always thinking about ways to incorporate it in different forms.

EO - As you know, I went out to the unveiling of Funtime Unicorn at Rockefeller Center and was able to experience the spring rider firsthand. I was very impressed with it. However, this is also the launch of your editions business. To me, I see a connection to Jeff Koons in his Celebration series, specifically the usage of blow-up balloon animals as a source image. I'm curious whether this is something that you were thinking about as you were conceptualizing this edition of Fun time Unicorns.

DA - You cannot overlook the contributions of Jeff Koons, specifically the way he has manipulated objects to appear light which are heavy, and his examination of the American fixation with consumerism and identity politics as it relates to a consumer object. He examines who that object is made for and how it operates within society and in a public space. His public works always have a level of fun and excitement, which I am personally interested in as an artist. However, when I'm making something and putting it into the world, I do expect to have some level of response or engagement with the audience because I'm putting something in a public space.

EO - I'm curious about what factors in the art world, or even personally, led you to decide to start your Editions business at this moment.

DA - I saw it as a perfect time because there are so many ideas that I've had on my list of projects that I want to accomplish. The editions business being one. I like the idea of transforming my ideas into paintings and into things I make that are wearable. Things that I can transform from work on walls to something that people can engage with physically, like a toy or playground equipment. I like to think about accessibility as an approach to engaging with my work. So, whenever I have an opportunity to make an edition, more than one person can have it. More than one person can engage with it. I feel like that's a part of my practice and equally beneficial to me as a maker.

EO - So, I know from prior conversations that community is at the center of your practice, which, to me, is fantastic. I've heard you have a couple of nonprofit organizations you started in Baltimore. Can you tell me a bit more about those organizations?

DA - I believe in community and making art more accessible in many ways. About three or four years ago, I became interested in establishing some nonprofit organizations in Baltimore that relate to ideas surrounding my work. Leisure is one of them, and archiving is one of my interests when making a body of work. So I established the Charm City Cultural Cultivation, a nonprofit organization with three sub-organizations.

One is the Last Resort Residency is a reset, leisure, and social engagement space with a residency component and studios. It is a space for black creators and visual art, literary, culinary, and other forms of creative output to be invited here for a month to experience a space for creativity, community, and social engagement. We hope to launch it next year at some point. We're still establishing the structure for it.

The Black Box, my digital database, is another organization focused on helping the citizens of Baltimore archive their data that family photos, or objects that can be transformed into digital files that will be stored in the database. This is something that we won't own. We will just be the gatekeepers of the data. It's also a space for artists who have done work within the black community around digitizing archive material can have open discussions and workshops with communities that help them understand the importance of archiving, how to access it, and how to share it. The programs will focus on bringing people to the space and creating a community surrounding the database that will have ownership in some way of its direction.

Zora's Den is another organization I started in Baltimore, a Black women writer's circle. They publish anthologies every two years. They just published the second issue, Ironside. Zora's Den is also a workshop format where women come together and edit their writings. Then, they have readings, and they publish their writing.

There I am, my suppressed child-self. My eyes are closed. I can depict the imagery of youth.  As I imagine, I can feel grass scratching the skin of my exposed ankles and the mosquito bites decorating my calves. I can see a bright sun and its last sheds of extended daylight saving. There are clouds, and there are laughs, and I have an aftertaste of fruit rollups on my tongue. There's a wrenched Caprisun withering on the ground. Then, I open my eyes. I am an adult. I have matured in many ways yet my brain clutters with the fogginess of nostalgia. Hues of yellow and blue fill my consciousness, and I am filled with warmth from the inner child that sits within me.

Do you know what that feels like? Does this happen to you? Eve, an artist from Vancouver and Rhode Island, knows of this experience. As a painter, she cherishes it—harvests it. Eve uses it as the centerfold of her work. The heavy streams of nostalgia and childhood are river flows into Eve's canvasses. 

When we get older, we all experience this 'pick me' phase of betraying our younger selves for the licensed maturity and respect of adulthood. We forsake our senses, sensations, and wildest imaginations for a seat at some stupid grown-up table. By the time we've reconciled with our inner child, the memory of those times leaves us joyfully melancholic. It's difficult to actualize that feeling, and Eve does so gracefully. With ease, her drawings, sculptings, and oil paintings fractionalize the motifs of home, comfort, joy, and imagination. Through the usage of furniture, open windows, and childlike beings, Eve builds on those ideals and meanings. Anyone who views her work takes something home to think about. Eve's creations are the goody bags that we needed. 

In an office interview, Eve discusses the Studio Ghibli influence, a how-to tutorial for drawing on Procreate, and the relationship she has built with her inner child. 

What forms of media influence your art?

I watched a lot of Teletoon Retro growing up, and while it never seemed to influence my work until recently, I've carried a deep appreciation for its fluidity. The movement and designs of each characters are an inspiration that I use to convey more fluidity in my own work. I also loved watching anime in middle school—still do—and I am inspired by the vibrancy of the landscapes that can be found in slice of life and shonen anime like, 'One Piece.' I think in terms of direct reference, I'm inspired by maximalist aesthetics that can be found in a lot of Ghibli films like "The Secret World of Arrietty," "Spirited Away," and "Howl's Moving Castle." I actually have that image of Howl in his bedroom as my laptop screen. Other beautiful shows and films that I derive inspiration from include "Tatami Galaxy," "Houseki no Kuni," and "The Handmaiden."

How would you describe your art in three words?

When did your love of art begin?

A very common answer, but I think I've always been interested in drawing. For as long as I can remember, I've always enjoyed it. Growing up, I kept to myself frequently which meant most of my time was spent drawing and participating in arts and crafts. While I always enjoyed art, I think I started taking art more seriously around when I was 15 years old. That's when I decided I wanted to pursue it as a career rather than a hobby. 

What is it about light pastel colors that you enjoy?

I think my gravitation towards light colors stems from a desire to chase a feeling of nostalgia. I often view memory as submerged in light, and wish to convey that fogginess and light through my work. Similar to a filter. I do want to experiment with darker palettes though, so I expect my work to undergo many transformations in terms of overall contrast and color.

Who are the artists you're inspired by?

I've been a big fan of James Jean for a long time. I adore the fluidity of his line work along with his inclusive color palettes. Recently, I've been interested in objects and glasslike materials in intricate compositions and have been looking to old manuscripts, art nouveau, graphic designers, 3D artists, and ukiyo-e paintings as inspiration. There are a variety of artists that inspire me but immediately I think of Edmund Dulac, Shahzia Sikander, and Kenshi Ozaki.

Eve's work is a product of intention. As shown in her virgin black and white samples, the usage of her pencils creates lines and shapes with so much divisive detail. The process of turning her work into the colorful pieces representative in her portfolio takes precision, attention, and imagination. Eve's perception and thought process is saturated with creativity and her technical skills are the artistic cherry on the top. She takes her time on her work. This artist builds on the chosen colors, and no piece of hers goes unfinished without evoking the need for emotion. 

In many of your pieces, the motifs of furtniture are often utilized. What is the purpose behind these depictions?

I used to work exclusively with the human figure as the main subject, but after speaking with fellow artists working with objects as symbolic references, I began taking interest in objects as primary subject matter. I am very interested in furtniture that gives off feelings of home and comfort, as well as objects that feel fragile and intricate, hence my interest in glass and lattice structures.

You've done sculpting, oil painting and drawing— what's your favorite art form?

I really enjoy all of these mediums very much. I hope to continue working with them in the near future. I am currently most interested in drawing, as I am able to achieve a lot of intricacies even within a small surface area. Most of my drawings don't exceed 9x12", but because of this, I can explore many compositions and concepts in smaller amounts of time. Especially, without losing detail. This fast-paced tone has been incredibly helpful in my style exploration.

What is the process of turning your black and white sketches into it's full colorful works of art? How do you choose which colors to use?

I use mechanical pencils on sketchbook paper to create the base drawing, and then scan or photograph my sketches. From there, I import my images into Procreate and use the direct selection tool to lasso out areas of the drawing and use the gradient maps tool to color. Procreate has a few default options but I usually make my own or tinker with pre-existing ones. I usually have a very vague idea about the general atmosphere of the drawing and use a gradient map to tinge the entirety of the drawing to that color. Then, I pick out certain objects that I have an idea of a color for. I never really know what a drawing will look like until I'm finished with the color picking so, it is a process of trial and error. From there, I paint on top of the drawing, or play with layer blending modes and other settings like bloom, gaussian blur, or noise until I'm satisfied with the results.

There are so many child characters throughout your work. How does childhood and child fun enhance your work? Would you ever use motifs of adulthood?

Indeed! I think when I depict childlike figures, I really am harkening back to a younger version of myself, and in doing so, I feel like I am able to work out some of the knots and tribulations of my child self. I consider my work to be very highly encoded, and I strive for many pieces to instill calmness, or a sense of peaceful melancholy. I've been playing with the concept of authority figures and higher powers in my work, and enjoy the idea of a figure that is much wiser than my current and child self. I'm unsure of what an adulthood motif would entail, but I would like to expand my visual vocabulary to possibly more mature themes. Ultimately, I hope to preserve a sense of dreamscape and childlike whimsy in my work— at least for the time being.

A precious thing culture is. It's personified across the almost 8 billion people in this world, through language, clothes, legacies, and stories. When culture goes extinct, the memories of our loved ones become lost in speckles of dust. Glinting, for what it could have been if people valued it more. With colonialism and imperialistic manifestations, the individualized wants and needs of human beings suppress the upbringings they may come from, the families, and the backgrounds that have impacted them for gain.

Regardless, we all find ourselves returning to our origins, clinging to the speckles of dropped jewels our families have passed down— watching them slip away as we get older. Tanima Mehrotra refuses for her culture to go loose through her fingertips. Her artistry is the music box of honing in all of her experiences, traditions, and lessons. 

What a journey this photographer and creative director have had. From working in corporate finance and tech to being Frank Ocean's assistant for two years to capturing Lil Nas X's first portraits in the wake of his career— this artist has so many arcs to navigate for her work. She's multidisciplinary, certainly multifaceted, and talented feels like a basic Dictionary word to describe her. Mehrotra's portfolio is layered with vision. Mehrotra broke down her solo show, Affectionately, for office, which was a tribute to her grandfather and family culture and dynamic. An ode to her background and the love that drives her. Although, her career catalyst began with photography quilted through the portraits of artists, the same emotion that drives her work is found in her other queries. In this conversation, the creative director invites us in on her journey of translation and ever-evolving practice. 

Recently, you just did your first solo show, ‘Affectionately.’ What was the process behind putting this show together and what should it mean to audiences? 

I made this body of work to feel better — to deal with the feelings that came with not getting to say goodbye to my grandfather before he passed. The show was both a commemoration and a catharsis, doing it gave me an outlet for my grief and an opportunity to float between mediums. I spent all of April shooting the work and presented it in May. It was a lesson in creating while the feeling is raw, to cut yourself open in the process. To see it be received with so much love and support has been beyond anything I could’ve imagined. 

How does your culture or personal influences drive your art? 

My culture, my upbringing, my lived experience, where I'm from, the people I've met and the places I've been all inspire and inform the work. I feel lucky to be able to feel deeply, absorb my environment and translate those feelings.

You've shot artists like Megan Thee Stallion, Tracee Ellis Ross, Teezo Touchdown, and so much more. Is there a difference between shooting artists or musicians in contrast to your personal work?

I don't view them as different. I bring the same energy and approach to every shoot, regardless of who I'm shooting. My intention is to cultivate a generative space that allows the subject to be present and vulnerable.

For the future, are there any artists that you want to work with?

Young Thug, and I would've liked to work with Issey Miyake. 

You did creative and video direction for several artists throughout your career. Are you as passionate about creative directing as you are about photography and directing?

I find a lot of enjoyment in the process. If done right, creative direction is an opportunity to really ask questions and get to the core of a person or idea -- then craft an identity from there. What should this look and feel like? Why? Who can help achieve this vision? 

If you had to define yourself by an image that you photographed, which one would you choose?

My practice is always evolving. If I had to pick a photo that shows where it's at currently, it would be one I took of two men on a red sofa praying. Both are dressed in white kurtas with their eyes closed, lost in the moment. I feel like it has all the elements — intimacy and presence.

Are there any upcoming projects that you're working on? Any plans to do another solo show soon?

I'm working on a few music videos and writing a short film as well as some album/single covers and putting together a book. I'm working on doing another solo show in the fall and getting some furniture designs I've been sitting on out into the world. 

Random question, as you always need one— do you have any recurring dreams?

Since I was teenager, I've had this recurring dream where I'm dancing on a beach in Brazil with a green dress on and a flower in my hair. 

How do you know when you've captured a memorable photo?

Watch below for her personal short film, 'Grief.' A look into her artistry on a moving platter, drawing you deeper into what she can do. 

Emily Manwaring began immersing herself into her craft, delving deeper and deeper into self-realization with each careful flourish of her hand, as a means of connecting to the inner self. But unbeknownst to the artist, this yearning to connect brought her closer to not only her most clandestine feelings but closer to the world around her. In times when the world can feel bleak and lonely, Emily’s variegated, yet warm and familiar, works of art remind us that this journey does not have to be a solitary one if we choose to reach out and embrace those who extend open arms.

Even though I have not felt the rush of infectious energy in the air at Trinidad’s Carnival Festival or experienced the delicate textures of sawine melting on my tongue, one glance at Emily’s work still manages to leave a saccharine taste in my mouth, as I can feel the energy radiating off of her creations — a resounding rush of joy and nostalgia. Nostalgia, not for the exact moment, but for the feeling of surrounding myself with loved ones and knowing that, at least in that moment, I am not alone.

office had the chance to sit down with Emily and discuss the nuances of her mixed-media work, the interplay between self-reflection and a sense of community, and what it means to her to be able to continually honor her heritage through her pieces.

Your work focuses on showing how vivacious and close-knit New York’s Caribbean communities are. How do you encapsulate such a colorful, familial community just within the scope of a canvas?

Spending time in communities like Flatbush and Jamaica, Queens emphasizes the time I spent in Haiti and Trinidad. In these communities, I get a true sense of home, from the conversations I have with others to the food from the family-owned shops. The time spent in these neighborhoods is very intentional as I think about a way to commemorate and honor these spaces. I think about my work existing in Caribbean homes and aunties sharing and passing along my work. For me, each piece conveys thoughts on how I can memorialize moments in my life that make me feel at peace and at home in my heart.

What does true joy mean to you?

True joy for me looks like hanging out with my friends, dancing to a song that holds a specific memory, eating something that reminds me of where I’m from, talking about something I’m passionate about, and watching a movie from childhood. The truth in joy transforms our existence; it is a renewable source that bridges us with one another.

When you do feel undeniable, unbridled joy, how do you portray an intangible feeling as such in your work?

Through color, I am able to physically depict this intangible feeling. Selecting colors and associating them with each emotion allows me to create a full image of vivaciousness. The 3D materials I use in each painting are a very joyous additive; they help the work become more existent. When I form a collage for my work, I look at the expressions of all the people and how they communicate with each other. The paintings contain a lot of the actions and movements that remind me of joy.

Your paintings resonate in such a profound way as they conjure feelings of nostalgia, even if depicting a place or moment that viewers may have never experienced themselves. How has your use of vignettes portraying everyday life helped you work through your own past, experiences, and relationships?

Nostalgia is like the key to anyone’s heart; its ability to unlock the memories of our lifetime helps us navigate our experiences and relationships. Viewers take this journey with me from my childhood memories to futuristic ones that have yet to be physically proven but feel precise in the heart. These vignettes become records of celebration, where I have been, and who I spend these precious moments with. My paintings begin to function like a photo album, images that are not set to one specific time but contain all from one’s life. To take an ephemeral adventure and create longevity with these beloved moments allows me to honor my memory and give thanks for these occasions. It has been very healing for me taking time to paint these vignettes.

What is the most significant lesson you have learned about yourself and your identity through your ever-evolving artistic experience?

I learned that you can begin again over and over. I’ve learned to start over whenever I’m faced with a blockade. The lesson of “what will be for you will always be” helps me to think about my ever-evolving future and how ablaze it is. Thinking about each day one day at a time keeps my peace within arms reach and allows me to understand my artistic practice at the pace I’m comfortable with. I’m attentive to the many lessons I’ll learn along my travels.

What do you hope others gather from your work? Do you hope it inspires a similar process of self-reflection and realization in viewers?

I'm hopeful that my work inspires others to love the ones around them and hold them close tenderly. I hope all my Caribbean people see my work as a shoutout to them and me giving thanks to the culture I was brought up in. I think the process of self-reflection is important in making my work universal. I enjoy viewers looking and thinking about their families and the memories they share. I remember at a gallery show, a grandmother came up to me and told me this painting reminded me of all her grandchildren and that she had to show them — that, to me, is the highest accomplishment in my eyes.

I’ve read that along with your upbringing and those close to you — a large part of artistic inspiration for you comes from music. If you could design one album cover for an artist, who would you choose?

Yes! A lot of music keeps me going in my visual practice. Just listening to music and dancing in my studio helps me paint. That was my first love. I was singing before I even picked up a brush. My favorite cover artists are Robert Springett who did work for Herbie Hancock and Corky McCoy who has done work for Miles Davis. I would love to design cover art for Kelela. I can envision the cover already, with a dynamic composition of women taking up volume. Another part of me wants to time travel and do a cover for Diana Ross for all my 70s babes.

As a young artist, you have so much room to grow in your craft still. You’ve worked within the mediums of painting, sculpture, and collage — is there any other method you’d like to try?

Somehow, I would love to incorporate more music in my visual practice. Thinking about how sound can exist in my work is something that I’m beginning to open up to. Dance as well is a medium that transforms space and carries the same movement held in my paintings. Also, a lot of the work my dad makes through architecture interests me in world-building. I wonder what it would be like working with him on something. I can also see myself going back to school for culinary arts to be able to make the dishes I enjoy and take on art visually in that realm. Art is so vast in that way — there are so many different mediums that become languages for your overall message. I believe I can do it all — there’s a lot of life to live!

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