Vis(toxi)cous

When I was little I loved volcanoes, and I learned about viscosity. To think there could be a measure for how runny something is was comical to me - until lava was explained. Molten rock, so hot that its shapeless and dynamic existence could pour over buildings, through forests, and cause irreversible destruction was admirable. And terrifying. I jumped from the margins to a small canvas, meaning I was playing this one for keeps. I chose to have geometry clash with fluidity inside the mind numbing color in order to offer a bit of subconscious structure, and a vision of lava and structural steel melting into the heat flashed across my eyelids.

Continuing on the path of abstract, inspired by the meditative process from “Draw Me Your Home,” I began to doodle patterns in my notebook margins to stay alert in classes. I hid The Lumineers from my sight, and bumped Hypnotic Trance Techno through my headphones, car stereo, and consciousness every moment I could. When I would return home after a day of Work - School - Run - Homework - Food - Repeat, I would lay on the floor with all my art supplies and work my fingers through repetitive pattern after repetitive pattern, blinding color after blinding color in an attempt to silence racing thoughts lingering from heartache and approaching as The End Of College became a visible speck on the horizon. 

Finally titling this small work “Vis(toxi)cous” is my nudge to acknowledging the idea that some fluid forms, though attractive and enticing (liquid courage, lava, and bleach to name a few), can be toxic to the form and function in our life. Lava in all its red hot flowing beauty demands to be respected as it bulldozes through civilizations; bleach promises to reinvigorate the sanitary whites - but a single drop into a porous color can wreak havoc on a wardrobe; the sweet dizziness of champagne can come back to haunt you when the blurry line indicating “too much” is crossed - compromising the structural integrity of your skeleton hunched over a porcelain throne.