Frida Lives On

    Before this past year, I wouldn't have seconded guessed my Halloween costume. If I am being honest, I probably wouldn't have even worn one, because of  my lack of self-confidence.  But this year, I went for it.  I transformed myself into the iconic Mexican artist, Frida Khalo.

    Scrolling through the Frida tag on Instagram proved to be conflicting for me on Halloween day.  As I swiped through the various pictures, I reflected on my own cultural identity. I also questioned whether or not just anyone should be able to dress up as Frida. Should ANYONE be able to apply fake bold eyebrows and don over-sized jewelry and floral crowns? OR  Does dressing as Frida with no personal connection to her culture turn her image into caricature?

    I think it does. It is important to ask yourself questions like these when deciding if you should dress up as a certain person or character. Cultural appropriation is an overt problem especially on Halloween. Don't try on someone else's culture as your own even if "it is just for fun." It's not fun or cute. It's demeaning. Celebrate someone from your own culture instead.

    Celebrating Frida on Tuesday was something that I have been talking about for years. I felt proud to step into her shoes for just one night. Though I will never truly know how her personal struggles affected her mentally and physically, I can say that she was a powerful woman and artist who overcame her inopportune circumstances.  For that, she is an inspiration.  Frida Khalo is the embodiment of the phrase "she believed she could, so she did." I hope to keep persevering through my life's struggles with a even just a shred of her grace and badassery.  Her work and memory inspire me to do so every day of the year.

A Plea for Art in Public Schools

    Creating has always been a therapeutic experience for me, a coping mechanism. For as long as I can remember, I've been drawing, making, cutting, pasting--creating. Art allows me to take my energy and emotion and channel it into something beyond myself.  

    I have been creating as an "artist," since middle school. When I was about twelve, I did all of my art in black and white or plain gray pencil. I was afraid to express myself in color. I was afraid to mess up my work. I was afraid to live vibrantly. I was also in a deep state of depression which can account for my choice of medium.

    Now, I am at a better place in my life. My art is full of color and whimsy. It is full of quotes, flowers, metallics, and happiness. It's a different time. A new type of art for me. A different stage if you will. Picasso had his "blue period," and I had a gray period. And I still have my gray days.

One of my most recent hand lettering projects

    Art is so beautiful, messy, weird, and fascinating, and it is dying in our public schools. How are kids supposed to express themselves in ways that they never expected? How are they supposed to dream and wonder? We must keep art in our public schools to give young people an outlet to communicate without saying a word. Art is powerful and has the ability to change lives. Children need to be exposed and immersed in it during their education experience in order to learn and grow as humans.

A page from my high school Narrative Project

    For me, art class was an escape. An escape from the chaos around me. A place where I could just focus and learn. I could listen to Nora Jones and the Red Hot Chili Peppers while I cut and pasted magazine pieces into the negative space of my still life. It was my favorite part of my day. However, the quality of art education that I received beyond middle school is not what I would call education. The classrooms were messy, unorganized, and the teachers didn't teach technique, style, or even art history. They didn't teach at all. The supplies were few and far between or ruined due to lack of care. Once I was in college, I was given the opportunity to take an Art Appreciation class taught by a teacher with so much passion. She talked about art in a way that allowed me to devour it, and I was utterly amazed. I will never forget her giving me that experience. 

A page from my Narrative dedicated to
Warhol

    Art has helped me through the bad, it has allowed me to shine through the good, and it has given me a voice when I was too afraid to speak. Art is so important. I will never stop, and we must make sure that the next generation is exposed to it. Without art, the world is lackluster. Without art, the world's beauty and future voices are stifled.

    My first love in the art world was Claude Monet with his water lilies and Paris landscapes in middle school. Then, came Andy Warhol with his bold use of color and line in high school. After that, I discovered the likes of Yasumadsa Morimura and his self protraits and Maria Abramovic in The Artist is Present in college. Now, I'm in love with the typography of Kimothy Joy.  I will always be a viewer, appreciator, and creator. 

    Art has influenced my way of thinking and my view of the world. It has shaped me as a person. I hope my children and their peers can say the same. Do what you can to save the fine arts in our public schools by writing your local school board a letter, by donating to Americans for the Arts, or by directly donating to your school's art program.

Here are a few pieces of my art--a now and then if you will.

Two of my latest hand lettered pieces

Three of my paintings from 2016

Two of my very first collages created at least 12 years ago

Thanks for reading! Don't stop creating!

Stacy

An Introduction and Labels

    Throughout my young adult life, I have encountered people from all walks of life. As Malala Yousafazi affirmed in an interview, "There should be no discrimination against the languages people speak, skin color, or religion." My takeaway from this quote and my belief above all else: there should be no discrimination. I, myself, am a minority. I am a person of color (POC), a teacher, a mother, a woman, an Oklahoman, an artist, a body positivity advocate, a feminist, and so much more than these labels. But society defines us, so I might as well OWN my labels.

    Despite all of these labels that have somewhat of a positive connotation that make up my person, I have been labeled much more harshly lately, or rather I should say ignorantly. Have you heard the terms "snowflake" or "lib 'tard" being used recently? That's me in a nutshell. This is how many members of my community would choose to define me. These labels do not bother me. If this is what it means to believe in a world that can one day be more inclusive, then yes, I am by definition a "snowflake."

    I hope I have not scared too many of you off by using terms like "lib 'tard" and "feminist." So many people find these terms offensive or threatening in some way.  I want to use this platform to help you examine why you feel this way.  I want to have a discussion.  But let me make this clear, I want to have a discussion free of belittlement and harassment.  Once the discussion becomes unproductive, I am done with whomever makes it so. My goal is for this to be a safe space, and I will NOT let people make me feel unsafe.

    This is me. I will be sharing my thoughts on Oklahoma's educational system, healthcare, equality, feminism, motherhood, and a variety of other topics. I implore you to join in on this discussion with me.

Thanks for reading,

Stacy