Maya Lin at the de Young Museum, San Francisco

I finally got to see Maya Lin a few days before the show came up. I was so excited I almost peed. Here is the installation in progress and after. There are over 65,000 2x4 pieces of wood. They're all numbered and are part of a system. You can tell the piece is not hallow in the center. It took the crew over two weeks to put this together. At work, I've been around the sculpture for 7 hours, and it has so much power. I was so excited that this large masculine construction has such a soft form. There are going to be more pieces by the Maya and other Asian American artists including Yoko Ono, hollah. The show will be up through January 2009. 

Spooky Scary

I just got excited for Hallows Eve because my costume just came together. My love for the movie "Pink Narcissus" made me want to be a Matador. I found Power Ranger costume that I altered to make the pants. A kids Cinco de Mayo vest. A modified red blazer, and altered sailor hat to complete the get up. Toro!!!

Art of Democracy: War and Empire at Meridian Gallery

Here is a video I just completed with Mark Vallen for Meridian Gallery on a current exhibition. Thanks to Erica Botz for being my lighting sidekick!  

You Betta Work: RuPaul Embroidery

When I heard RuPaul was coming to San Francisco to host Midnight Mass with Peaches Christ, I knew an embroidered portrait of the diva would be the best project. I didn't finish it in time to show Ru, but it's here! I'm just going to finish the edges in the future.

10 Bondage Restraint Lingerie Masks

I decided to have these masks to wear during the opening of the show. When patrons wear the masks in a public space, anonyminity, and ambiguity become a way to create and connect people and communities. We are also performing subversive gender roles and sexualities in an open forum for public awareness. The masks are transparent, but the patron's face cannot be identified, which gives the patron agency to identify themselves by their own terms. The opening for the mouth emphasizes language's agency.

Upcoming Art Show

JENGA: Death Vs. Boris Karloff

My dear friend, Scott, began sending me letter's with a question and drawing challenge. His second challenge was to draw Death playing Jenga with Boris Karloff. 

SF Queer Art Show

What Am I Expecting??

To Conform or Not To Conform...

At this point, I have no choice. This past month has been economically difficult for me. To prepare myself for possibilities of getting a retail job that makes me "look" like the products I would sell, I cut off my lovely maine. I've had my hair in bobby pins for 2 years. It was the gender queer part of me that I embraced the most because people always confused my gender. 

I just accepted a position at the one place I am against the most, Gold's Gym in the Castro. Although I won't be checking in dumb bells, I'll be making smoothies instead. I need to be optimistic about this and let go of my prejudices towards built gym fags. 

The economy is so horrible right now in San Francisco. I applied for 30 places, and only had 3 responses. One from the fabric store next to my house which said there were too many applicants for the position and I didn't have enough experience. The second from a cafe responded with the same issue. The third was this smoothie joint. The interview went well, and I was hired on the spot. 

If I didn't find a job by the end of the month, I would have to move back to Los Angeles with my family because I have no money for rent. I probably still need another job after I graduate college, but this is a step. I'm grossed out by the fact that a person who will obtain their B.A. won't even get hired to clean toilets, a job I sent my resume to as well. 

The perks to the job are: the endless amounts of smoothies that will be in my tummy, coffee, working alone, working in a slow place, tips so I can eat, bi-monthly paychecks, and possibilities of meeting people outside of the internet world. It's gay friendly, so I will be somewhat comfortable. Optimistic! 

Queer Martyred By A Gay Culture: A Self Portrait as Saint Sebastian

Queer Martyred By A Gay Culture: A Self Portrait as Saint Sebastian
Hand embroidered and machine sewn
23"x36"
2008







Saint Sebastian was martyred by a Roman emperor in the 3rd century for being Christian. Sebastian becomes a symbol for injustice and isolation for some gay communities. My interpretation of the saint renders him as the isolated queer in a gay community, which is a more silent issue. The body is slender, androgynous, and feminine, which are characteristics far from the construction of masculinity found in San Francisco's gay Castro District. The queer saint then becomes a symbol of exclusion by the mainstream gay culture.

Where My Dad Made Me Sleep (Childhood Dreams Come True)

A Family Reunion

I'm in L.A. in the room that collects treasures my grandmother finds at WalMart. I'm on the futon I spent 7 years on. The mattress is different. It's thinner, and I can feel exactly where the rails protrudes through the bed. The Walls are tanned. I painted them to inspire my family to remodel our broken house; it didn't work. The window has bamboo blinds to cover the piece of glass missing from the frame. A cylinder burlap lamp shade hovers over its gold neck and green glass orb base, which I found around the block long ago. The 60-watt lighting is the only thing in the room that's familiar to me.

Today I went to spend the evening with my dad's side of the family. I had been preparing for this since I last saw my step mom and new siblings in December. Yesterday my mother was telling me to wear this Pacific Sunwear like collared shirt my uncle gave me when I see my dad. Of course I got in a fight with her about it; and rightfully so. Its my body and I can do what I want with it. He's damaged my self esteem enough to be weak about it now. And their fixation on my attire defining my sexuality won't change. I told her I already had the perfect outfit planned, reminded her that I'm almost 23, and left it something like that after some yelling.

My step mom, Ofelia, told me that I was a little backoffish last time I saw her, and she said not to be nervous when I see the family again. I told my mom that the only way they're going to know who I am now is if I don't hold back anything. That being said, when Ofelia picked me up, I wore my blue and vintage white stripped shirt and my olive green jeans.

I walked in Sergio's backyard with my little brother, who shared my first and last name, in my arms. As I got closer to where I saw my uncle Sergio, Luis, and Juan (my god father). Juan stared at me in his chair long enough for him to collect his judgments before getting up to say hi to me. Luis stood up with his sun glasses glued to his face. Both showed the least among of interest when I first arrived. I can't help but think og the fear they had for their manhood as well as their children's' when I tried playing with them and got to know them. Even though I received palms full of love from 18 family members, Juan and Luis were 2 others who made me feel the most unwelcomed. I initially avoided them because I was scared of the questions they would ask. I first stayed indoors to catch up with the little ones. Then Ofelia said I should go outside.

Sometime later, I had sat across from Juan and Luis. Juan started asking me questions about my living situation, my job status, how I got money, where it came from, did I have to pay it back, and what the cost of my rent was. He stopped frilling me after that and said that I had a good deal for my apartment. he asked what I would do after I graduate. This was not the conversation I was expecting to have with my god father, who I hadn't seen on over 4 years. Luis interjected somewhere to ask if I had any internships in my field. I told him I did. To Luis and my uncle Juan, my job, education, and experience that can be printed on paper with a gold emblem were signs of achievement and success. I was surprised they hadn't asked what my grades were; a topic that seemed more important than my well being when I was in high school.

My dad showed up later. I expected more suspense, but there was a hug and "How are you?" My uncle Sergio seemed to be the only one who warmed up to me. He knows how much I care about my cousins and saw how his daughters and baby son warmed up to me without judgments. My aunt and god mother, Patty, was happy I was there. She wanted to know when I would graduate so they could all go up there. I thought it was weird, since they weren't always into my life before, but I guess they just want to make up for that lost time, so I should be positive about that. I could just have a BBQ or something. But it's a bazaar idea to invite two families from who united in large gathers when I was an infant, sharing love and laughter over hot dogs and beer. I don't know if the Inner Richmond is ready for that many Mexicans.

After the gathering, My dad gave me a ride to another part at my uncles' from my mother's side of the family. He also gave me money which I tried rejecting at first. he said "I know I don't have to give you anything, but I want to". It sounds sweet, but his tone was stern, I got the impression he felt obligated to make up for not supporting me through college. He explained that he thought I was going to spend the night so we could talk, even though he never mentioned this. He said there were things I didn't know about or understand growing up. I listened to him without a response and was reminded of all the times he used to talk to me about life during long drives.

When he dropped me off at my uncles house I felt unsatisfied. I had to see him again on his terms, but knew it was a conversation that needed to happen. Last time I tried seeing him in L.A. to talk about how I was upset he called me once in the last 6 months to tell me he was having another child, he didn't call me until the night before I left L.A. My visits to the south aren't usually long or often, so I was really pissed by his lack of effort. We didn't talk for over 2 1/2 years. Nor did I get a call for my 21st birthday.

The reason this came up was because I happen to do a Myspace search for my cousin, and aunt Patty's daughter, because I had been feeling so disconnected from my family and cultural background. I found her. As an adult 16 year old, she told me about all the new cousins that had been born, family drama, and to reconnect with them. Even though I asked her to keep our dot com conversations private until I was ready to see the family again, she told her mom, and I eventually called her in December to arrange to see them. When they picked me up, she asked if I wanted to see my uncle Sergio and his wife who just gave birth in the hospital. I did, it was rightfully awkward, but a step of course. Then she asked if I wanted to see my grandma. I did, and I was really fulfilled. Then she asked if I wanted to see my step mom, I had nothing to lose, so I did. Seeing my step mom, whom I have always loved and adored for her kindness, was really wonderful. What was most difficult was seeing my 5 year old half sister, and 1 year old half brother. My sister took to me like sprinkles on a donut. She knew who I was, not by my birth name, but by what my friends call me.

The experience of being loved by a child, which I had met only as an infant, was so new and innocent. And I can't help but feel at the same time how selfish people can be for being so judgmental and narrow about how others live their life, but a child can be so welcoming and accepting.

Felted Power Animal

It was in the month of December where I had a chance encounter with a creature from above. I assumed I would be spending a sunny day with dirty clothes in my filthy laundromat on Arguello Blvd., but I wasn't the only one with that idea. I walked into the laundromat and found a series of features scattered across the unswept floor. First idea that comes in my head was they belonged to an unwanted down pillow, so I ignored them. But as I stood in front of the set of washers, something motioned to the left of me.

Coming from behind the green bench that sat along the front entrance was a beast of unmeasurable proportion! With a red, bald, wrinkled head, crooked neck, and boulder like posture, a Turkey Vulture stood shallow in front of me. It was closer to the entrance than I was, and I was in no position to question the velocity this being had. I stood there, waiting patiently to see who would make the first move. He casually began to walk forward, rear itself towards the door, and one claw out the door, the vulture spread it's wings wide into the Arguello sky. I've been puzzled and pressed to discover what this means to me. A new appreciation for nature? Should I keep a closer eye out for underwear bandits? Have I found what Keanu Reeves from Thumbsucker might consider to be my power animal???

At the end of the day, I left with an inspiration that helped me create my "Crocheted Creature Project" for my textiles class. His name is "Humphrey", made of felted wool yarn and plaid fabric, and is just shy of 8". I crocheted the head and the green body. I'm not sure if his feet have been resolved, but I will consider it when he returns from my teacher's hands.

Too Gooey To Be True

Lambs Pride Project Melt Down!

In the winter of 2007, I was given the gift of a Singer LK100 Knit Machine (with 90 needles) by my great grandma. Based on the fabulous pictures of patterns that came with this machine, my guess is that it was sold in the late 80s and was probably stuck in her closet since then. This fulfilled my deepest desire to knit like a maniac. A month of practice, playing, and love, I decided I could knit yards and felt what I knit. The idea has many possibilities.




I used Lambs Pride 80% woold and 20% mohair, which felted beautifully when I took a textiles class. Each color had 3 swatches with the knit machine gauge of 1, 5, and 9 (1 was the tightest, and 9 was the loosest). The colors were separated by acrylic yarn that was thin, to allow each swatch to felt without adjusting to the size change.








Before:
Gauge: 1, 5, 9, with pink acrylic yarn.
Stitches: 20x20 (with minor mistakes on some)



Felting Process: I washed the knits all together in a pillow sack I made with a zipper. The laundry setting was on small load, hot/cold water (which was more warm than hot), and on super wash. I used 1 table spoon of Synthrapol while the water was running. I noticed a difference within the first five minutes of the knits in the washer. And saw more change in 10 minutes. At 20 minutes, the knits didn't change much from when I took them out at 10 minutes.
The smaller knit swatches felted less than the bigger knit swatches. The pattern in the bigger knit swatches is less visible than the smaller knits.

After Felted:
Spice & Chocolate Souffle






Deep Charcoal & Grey Heather






Silver Gray & Old Sage &Jade






Sunburst Gold & Dynamite Blue






Here is a video of me working my machine on my first sweater.