Life is a f*cking joke, at least from my perspective. Maneuvering my formative years as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, A.K.A. the Mormon church, caused me quite a bit of trauma that I didn’t realize was tied to the “religion” until I got older. It started with silly things like being concerned about my midriff, chest, and shoulders being on view, to being told to keep quiet and stay obedient while singing “Choose the Right” in Sunday school.

In the Church, members get baptized at eight years old, hardly when you should make important life decisions, but you’ve gotta C.T.R., right?! The experience was unforgettable. Before the baptismal ceremony, I had to repent for all my sins. This was one of the first times I remembered feeling anxious and worried about being “found out” by God and the bishop interviewing me. I didn’t understand what I was mentally and physically going through then, but now I know.

On top of that, I was growing up in a household navigating Substance Use Disorder. To me at the time, how I was experiencing life was normal. Still, I realized that the actions transpiring around me were immoral upon learning that it was more than extremely frowned upon in the Church. The body is a temple for f*cks sake! So, the Missionaries came over, and the booze and smokes got tucked away; this was one of the first times I witnessed an act made out of guilt and shame.

As I got older, I found myself feeling out of place. Realizing I was bisexual in high school made it extremely difficult to support a religion that was not accepting and honestly, I didn’t want to deal with that sh*t. My mother was accepting on a surface level, but SURELY it was a phase, just like my Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Well, neither was the case. 

This exhibition is a resounding declaration, a shout across the universe for all who have grappled with similar issues, whether tied to religion or not. It’s for those who have been told to be silent, conform, and wear an uncomfortable mask to navigate life. Through the lens of humor and exaggeration, with the use of bold colors, party favors, and non-Mormon approved makeup among other things, these self-portraits and the text that accompany them are a reclamation of the energy and anxiety spent on striving for a perfect faithfulness and conforming to others’ expectations, especially those of the Church.

Let’s celebrate the idea of living life unashamed and on our terms.

Thank you to Dale Dong for the exhibition installation photos!

There is a new fear on the horizon: the artificially intelligent takeover. The amount of data we consume via social media catered to us through an algorithm is remarkable. We choose to use this technology, becoming devoted to it over time. Each day becomes harder to step away from the digital realm. The online space we are addicted to has brought society closer while also destroying aspects of raw humanity. This digital universe devised by humans is quickly becoming artificially intellectual. The digital world intrigues me, but I am also fearful of it; humans are closer now to living in a science fiction movie than ever before, so what happens next? What does our world look like if we shift our devotion to something created by an automated program? How could digital immortality present itself? The world presented in this project comments on organized religion, bearing characteristics of my previously practiced Mormon religion alongside cult-like brainwashing techniques concerning new digital community possibilities.

Strangers will stumble upon our relics after we expire, but only those who knew us will own our story. Our candid photographs, art, clothes, and even our most intimate possessions like locks of hair will eventually end up in the hands of those who never knew us. These things make us immortal in a way, but how does it affect those who are already gone? I believe that death is only for the living and dying and not for the dead. We have reminders of loved ones passed. These memories viscerally affect us, but they do not affect the expired. Relics are reminders of our mortality; we must investigate the feelings they provide us; only when we are comfortable with those feelings and what they represent will we be comfortable in death. This project is the culmination of research done on the relics of my family members, both currently living and some deceased, along with my bodily ephemera.

Women can't always play the victim. With a feminist movement happening in horror, there are roles open to strong female leads. The classic final girl ideology is taking cinema by storm, but what is the reaction when the women stop being tormented and start becoming the tormentors? The new villain might not always wear a grotesque costume, but women are getting time as the antagonist on the screen. These images became a test of how society responds to the role reversal of victims to villains, taken from cinema and urban legend character inspiration.