Diary Writings no. 1
Auto-writing drawing, charcoal on paper, 9 1/2’’ x 37’’, 2026.
“I once spoke to my friend Margeret of my desire to convert to Bootyism someday; and how menstrual institutions were unethically used by Old White Men as testing sites for the pill. We talk about a lot of things but never circle back to the important stuff.”
Diary Writings no. 2
Auto-writing drawing, charcoal on paper, 9 1/2’’ x 37’’, 2026.
“I carry a mirror wherever I go. I don’t want to get lost like the other girls. Darlene would tell me that I have too much vanity; mother would send me to the nearest church. Darlene saw me looking at the mirror. “What do you call someone with too much vanity?” After, she left to her room upstairs. I heard her get lost on the way.”
Diary Writings no. 3
Auto-writing drawing, charcoal on paper, 9 1/2’’ x 37’’, 2026.
“A misspell is not a mispell is not a misspelling. I don’t know what it is yet. A mistake breaking my automatic functions? A subconscious revelation? A bodily confession? I think what I write without thougt is truer than the careful composition. This is where the lie is, outside me. My hand knows something I do not know. That I am in the mispell.
Diary Writings no. 5
Auto-writing drawing, charcoal on paper, 9 1/2’’ x 37’’, 2026.
“I am married to my camera. I mean that I am married to myself. One day, I dream of marrying another. Marriage is too lyrical. I still think of it. That I put my camera down.”