Flowers and question mark

This piece revolves around Socrates' idea that we know nothing. I feel that we should always be questioning things and be open to new ideas. How do we know what we think we know is right? We don't. I feel that asking questions and learning as much as we possibly can is the best way to live our lives. "It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it." (Aristotle) When we start to accept things as they are fed to us, we close our minds to all the other possibilities that are out there. I used an app on my phone to write out some of my ideas about knowledge and then I manipulated the words to form a question mark. I left some of the letters out of the question mark to bring a sense of ambiguity to the table, which reenforces the idea of not knowing.

Hands in progress

Lucky

I started this piece on a day that I was in so much pain that even my pain medication could not completely suppress the distress. Once I could get out of bed to work on art, I started rumaging through my magazines and I came across five or so LUCKY magazines with beautiful models and subtitles like "Bombshell hair" and "PERFECTLY PRETTY." I suddenly became so infuriated (at such a high dose of prednisone, one's emotions are often extreme) because of the messages these magazines are sending. They are telling young women that, to be regarded as "perfect", they should focus on improving their appearance. I looked at the word "lucky" and felt like the unluckiest girl in the world; I was spending my senior year fighting my own body (ulcerative colitis is an autoimmune disease) with drugs that gave me fat cheeks and acne and a whole slew of other side effects. Then, I took another look at myself and realized that, compared to so many other children, I am so fortunate.

If Hands Could Talk

The idea behind this piece is pain and beauty. I wanted anyone to be able to relate to this painting, so I decided to leave it rather abstract. Personally, I was in a great deal of pain from my recently diagnosed, severe ulcerative colitis when I created this piece. I had to stay home from school that day because of the pain; I wanted to clear my mind as much as possible and paint what I was feeling. I painted my hands and arms and then placed them on the canvas in a way that made it appear that the hands were trying to grab or reach something. I want the viewer to see how mad and desperate I am that I cannot reach what I am grasping for. I had a picture taken of my hands in this position; I wanted to juxtapose the harsh, dark, mainly red lines on the canvas with soft, cool tones and my relatively smooth skin. The idea behind the photograph is that beauty can come out of even the harshest of pains.