Friday, October 3, 2025

Mid-Day Curatorial Walkthrough 12:00 p.m. – 3:00 p.m.

Artist Reception 5:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m.

 

My work is an ongoing exploration of Latin American culture—both within the diaspora and in its homeland. As a half-Panamanian, half-North American artist, I navigate the complexities of an identity shaped by two cultures and languages. Growing up, I spoke English, yet often dreamed in Spanish. This duality has become the lens through which I view the world, shaping my art in ways both profound and intimate. Traveling throughout Latin America has further informed my practice, blending the foreign with the familiar. My paintings do not seek to document specific places or events; instead, they act as landscapes of memory—spaces between dream and waking life. Through them, I explore the delicate balance between the sublime and the melancholic, translating my inner world onto the canvas.

Immersed in my father’s Latino heritage, I grew up listening to his stories, music, and language. These early influences laid the foundation for my creative journey. Latin American literature, from the magical realism of Jorge Luis Borges to the raw realism of Roberto Bolaño, continues to shape my work. I often explore oppositions—modern versus ancient, secular versus religious, text versus imagery. These contrasts reflect the cultural intersections that define my own experience.

In today’s socio-political climate, where the personal freedoms of marginalized communities, the integrity of science, and the stability of economies are under constant attack, my work has taken on a new urgency. The COVID-19 pandemic, with its profound toll on lives and livelihoods, has only deepened my reflections. These crises—both local and global—inform my recent pieces, which serve as an indirect commentary on the struggles we face as individuals and as a society.
Through these evolving themes, I strive to bring attention to the nuances of identity, culture, and the ongoing dialogue between personal and collective histories.

 

 

Two bullets changed my life forever. One took my father's life at the age of 54, and the other struck my mother in the head, leaving her with lifelong challenges. While this tragedy was the catalyst that redirected my life toward art, the pain and loss have been profound.

With over a decade of experience as a painter, eight years ago I transitioned to stained glass as my primary medium. I discovered that by using broken glass and found objects, I could build realistic images of a shattered city, strengthening my message about the resurgence of Detroit.

Now, 28 years after the tragedy, I feel compelled to address the senselessness of gun violence through my work. Each time I hear about another mass shooting, my heart breaks for the families involved. I feel a deep sense of empathy for the immense pain and suffering they are enduring.

The work presented here represents the first four pieces in a new series, “The Right to Bear Arms?” This series explores how gun violence impacts not just the victims and their families, but the entire community. Like a pebble thrown into a pond, the ripples extend far beyond the immediate tragedy, affecting extended families, friends, and neighbors. When I think of mass shootings, especially those involving children, I am struck by the far-reaching effects on the entire community.

A recurring theme in this body of work is the idea of “remnants” the physical and emotional fragments left behind in the wake of tragedy. Bullet casings, broken toys, and personal items become symbols of the loss, and these remnants evoke the painful memories and grief that linger long after the event itself.

The first piece in this series is titled The Remnants That Are Left Behind. It depicts a beautiful sunset, but upon closer inspection, we see the remnants of what has been lost. For the families and communities affected, these remnants symbolize the overwhelming task of rebuilding, of finding a way back to a life where they were whole, and to a time when they felt safe.