Don't Worry, I'll Be Leaving Soon, 2021

Once upon a time, I, a lonely woman in her thirties with a yeast infection, sat drunk eating a frozen pizza at one in the morning watching Cinderella, crying myself to sleep over the fantasy of a life that seems so unattainable: the dream of being an artist, of being seen, and of living the art life.

 

The next morning, I went into the studio and realized my fairy godmother was never going to come. I looked around to see what I could do to make me happy again. I visualized a graduation dress, a party celebrating me and my accomplishments. I saw my old work, work that so far no gallery has been interested in hosting, and decided to turn them into the dresses worthy of myself.

 

A project addressing a former stalker is about taking back my body, kindness, and time with a dress so sharp that it could cut through bull shit and stand up for themselves. A slideshow of unrequited love is now a sexy dress that would turn anyones head and make them sad. A cloth piece about my fear of becoming an irrelevant older woman reminds me that not only am I older, but I’m attractive and smart as hell. Photographs of my connection to my mother through the loneliness we share, is now a fun party dress at a party where we are the stars. And the feeling of being invisible in front of my friends and in front of my (ex) partner, takes up all the space she knows she has always deserved.

 

The production set style of display reflects the loss of an experience, a party of one in the spaces I’ve been allowed, and the deep seeded sadness of just being tired of self-care. Filled with these dresses that can’t and shouldn’t be worn, they, like the fairy tale, and perhaps even the illusion of the art life, aren’t real.

 

Like my feelings, the artwork used is temporary and always evolving.

And one day I, and they, will be wanted.
Always on the precipice of change.