Whisper Under Your Skin
For six years I found myself lingering in a state of idealism, believing I was accepted into an honorable community. I joined the Coast Guard to escape the life I knew. It was a chance to rewrite my story by helping others. My oath of service carried a promise for change, a desire for a life that existed in my dreams. I imagined the camaraderie, the laughter, and moments that would define new beginnings. And while sifting through my military experience, those dreams begin to decay, and are replaced with memories of hazing, sexual harassment, and assault. I face the dissonance between the ideals I believed in and the reality I endured.
As I continue to carry the weight of those haunting memories, my self-destructive impulses have materialized into image-making. Each image is constructed with deliberate care and precision through my quiet assertion of control. Drawn from my memory and lived experiences, each image leaves room for familiarity, allowing viewers to find fragments of themselves within my silence.
Whisper Under Your Skin explores the vulnerabilities within masculinity, where tenderness struggles to survive. During my time in service, I witnessed the nuances of masculinity, where the dichotomy would not bend but instead bound. Hypermasculinity became a performance where men concealed themselves behind masks to validate their worth. Those who resisted their roles were worn down until they fit the performance expected of them.
Through portrait and still life, I examine how trauma distorts perception and slowly erodes hope. The still life objects I am drawn to carry the weight of the male façade, suspended between performance and truth. I am interested in rupturing the binary between masculinity and femininity, placing my sitters in contrapposto to unveil the tension between strength and vulnerability.
This practice allows me to find solace in the uncomfortable aspects of my reality, while confronting my intrusive thoughts. Within this discomfort, I question how masculinity is shaped by suppression, and what remains when our mask begins to soften.
