A late reflection, but it's all good. MOSAICS II was the shit. I'm excited to get MOSAICS III in the works ... after FilGrad for KAMP (coming in June!), and after gettin some needed rest in.
The event went by so quickly, compared to the first MOSAICS, and I was moved by every single artist's gift. While the performing artists were dynamic in their collective use of light and shadow, the contributions from the visual artists (including me) brought a distinct shadow. Brooding. Cerebral. Textural. We all happened to be Filipinx. Moving forward, we do hope that the MOSAICS visual arts rosters will represent more, multiple identities. But I also want to honor and recognize the power of what was curated and shown. Because it really was a powerful wall of he/artwork.
Skyler's piece, Good girl, free woman, was sublime. While I was moved by every single performing artist's piece, hers still echoes in my mind. I wish I had an audio recording of it. I'll tell her this soon, maybe she'll be kind enough to indulge me.
Something that hasn't been sitting with me too well was my debut of NARCISO: An Interactive Chapbook. Same goes for my poster series Mama, evicted.
I'm not sure what I expected, or hoped for. My unease likely has to do with people's silence concerning my work, and my Q&A. I was asked why I decided to wait until the last minute to invite my family. In part, I put it off because my experiences with my family drive the bulk of my art, and I was afraid they wouldn't like what I created. It's really, really hard for us to have candid dialogues about what goes on in our lives with one another. With writing and posters and documentaries and installations, I at least have some thing to latch onto. A medium.
But, the issues I confronted this time--poignant, painful memories with Dad and with Mama--are fresh wounds. One of those wounds is still being made, right now. The day before MOSAICS II, my mom actually said she would come to the event, but she didn't. (sigh) It was probably for the best, though. It didn't feel right. To drag them into my public process of some of our intergenerational traumas. Maybe it won't feel this way later on. But lately, that's how I've felt about my public appearances. Is hiya catching up to me? Hopefully not.