I am a “kind of/almost” homeless veteran who uses art to deal with PTSD, nightmares, society in general and mostly my own consciousness. Art, pain, depression, loneliness, and hopelessness fit so well together.
It’s as if you were directly translating your feelings into the language of art. When someone sees it and understands it, sometimes they feel what you feel momentarily, when they realize that this beauty came from such ugly pain they remember it forever.
Every piece is a story, a story that has infinite versions because from the perspective of the beholder it becomes their interpretation of the story. When I see that my feelings affects others positively, It gives me hope, maybe one day, I can be in their shoes.
The example piece is an Alabaster sculpture from a solid stone. Like me, it was once dense, rough around the edges and seemed indestructible, but years of little cuts here and there, exposure, and with a little help from outside influences. It has become more fragile, open, and exposed, but it still remains strong and those are the qualities that make it beautiful.