My Art and Girl Knew York has always proposed the question: What is deemed sacred? And furthermore, what is the process of achieving sanctity?

I watched as my community of girls empowered even the most everyday items. Records, hairclips, merch from brands and bands they aligned with, trinkets, and trash were treasured, reused, and put upon a pedestal through sentimentality, ultimately achieving elevated status as icon.

In opposition to Duchamp's toilet, which took an everyday item and deemed it art by means of presentation, this was happening naturally and intimately. And the transition from mundane belonging to object of worship was at times slow.  I noticed in myself and those around me that the work desk, vanity, bathroom counters, windowsills, end tables, and dressers were all taking on a form of altar, constructing a self-portrait through items collected, treasured, and hoarded until infused with a perceived magic. A magic  that is derived from the memorialization of time spent. Somehow, even in a world of mass production and isolated consumerism, an object can still bloom into an item of worship given the right circumstances. The act of possessing encourages adoration, and the items and experience of owning them inspire unique personalization. Some personalizations are intentional, such as illustrating on the item, putting stickers on it, or otherwise encasing the item to preserve it; others are unintentional, like the item showing evidence of natural wear and tear, damage, or breakage.

My work is fundamentally sentimental. After time owning, using, or looking at an item, the object no longer feels inanimate. It holds life and connection through my relationship with it. The time I spend with found and ready-made objects is what realizes them into personal idol and works of art.

Does Duchamp’s Fountain become more connected to spirit if it was made with the urinal his lover took their last piss in before dying? 

Does sentimentality matter in art? 

Does it make it more valuable? 

If I sell what is sentimental to me as art, am I truly selling my soul?

My work pushes me spiritually to create a world of my own, and by extension, a religion of my own. I encapsulate my soul into objects that I use in real life, then graffiti out of compulsion, and sell as art. It is humiliatingly self-serving. The only comfort is knowing that my spiritual idolization of materiality resonates with people. They engage with the art because they see the beauty in how I deliver my inner world to the outer world. People see the inner religion in themselves, through their viewing of the religion in me, the crossover connects us.