Play-Dough
single channel video installation, school desk, six boards prepared with royal icing, graphite: 2019
I remember in the ninth grade our health teacher took out a mound of play dough the tone of band aids and proclaimed that with each sexual partner we experience, we also obtain the impurities that they have collected previously. She melded her neutral toned ball with doughs of other colors creating a deep gray hue. In the Atelier practice of drawing, grey tones are built up starting with an H pencil until the values relate so seamlessly that they resemble reality. The same reality elite men before me rendered ideal, female bodies. The same reality that my health teacher found suitable to preach purity through abstinence until marriage. A reality that is not mine. My reality was taught to me through the field work of experiencing men who wanted to partake in building up the values of my body through their own.
Dontelle taught me that melanin is magnificent in every capacity.
Eli taught me that a lubed hole is a happy hole.
Tom taught me that laughter does not mean yes and I’m sorry does not build back trust.
Skylar taught me that not all men have penises.
Brandon taught me that you can fuck your friends and still love them as a friends.
Josh taught me that bad sex can be fixed through communication.
Evan taught me that a man who insists on wearing condoms is the right kind of man and
James taught me that being fine as hell is a mind set, not a physical characteristic.
Western, mathematical theorists explain the golden ratio of a rectangle to be 1 to 1.618. With the average size of the American, male penis being 4.59 inches, this ratio produces a rectangle that perches itself perfectly within the palm of a hand. However, erections are not archival but what is left is a lasting experience that will archive itself into how I understand this part of my being. I’ve been taught the realities of the majority and now chose to ingest the knowledge that correlates with my own play dough, deep gray and glistening.
single channel video installation, school desk, six boards prepared with royal icing, graphite: 2019
I remember in the ninth grade our health teacher took out a mound of play dough the tone of band aids and proclaimed that with each sexual partner we experience, we also obtain the impurities that they have collected previously. She melded her neutral toned ball with doughs of other colors creating a deep gray hue. In the Atelier practice of drawing, grey tones are built up starting with an H pencil until the values relate so seamlessly that they resemble reality. The same reality elite men before me rendered ideal, female bodies. The same reality that my health teacher found suitable to preach purity through abstinence until marriage. A reality that is not mine. My reality was taught to me through the field work of experiencing men who wanted to partake in building up the values of my body through their own.
Dontelle taught me that melanin is magnificent in every capacity.
Eli taught me that a lubed hole is a happy hole.
Tom taught me that laughter does not mean yes and I’m sorry does not build back trust.
Skylar taught me that not all men have penises.
Brandon taught me that you can fuck your friends and still love them as a friends.
Josh taught me that bad sex can be fixed through communication.
Evan taught me that a man who insists on wearing condoms is the right kind of man and
James taught me that being fine as hell is a mind set, not a physical characteristic.
Western, mathematical theorists explain the golden ratio of a rectangle to be 1 to 1.618. With the average size of the American, male penis being 4.59 inches, this ratio produces a rectangle that perches itself perfectly within the palm of a hand. However, erections are not archival but what is left is a lasting experience that will archive itself into how I understand this part of my being. I’ve been taught the realities of the majority and now chose to ingest the knowledge that correlates with my own play dough, deep gray and glistening.