Have you heard of this riddle-thing? One time, they put this baby in a room with no colors. Everything was black and white. Then they gave her textbooks that discussed everything there is to know about color and light as she grew up. One day, they let her out into the world. Did she learn something new?¹

        You could say she didn’t “learn” anything that the books hadn’t already told her, but deep down you would know that seeing colors is completely different than just listening to someone describing them. If bodily experiences are exclusive to the souls that feel them, then an “experience” counts as knowledge — some people know it, and some people don’t. But then, if you die, and you’re the only human throughout space and time to experience something, then knowledge of that experience dies with you. That knowledge is gone forever. I think this is tragic. The only way of preserving your memories, your life experiences, the things you smelled and tasted — you — is by creating a testimony to how you experienced life. So. I don’t make art about my personal experiences because I am an artist, but because it has been assigned to me as a human being.

        I want to sharpen my ability to communicate on a level past words, so I am learning how to translate my personal experiences into art. To me, the most interesting information is the kind that moves and has sound. This is why I prefer to create art that does so as well. My favorite pieces that I have made this year, and the piece I am currently working on, all revolve around identity. Catfish, for example, conveys online identity versus “IRL” identity, but depicts my very specific experience of the pandemic. Boneless Eggs also depicts perfectionism and fixation in reference to my very particular high school experience. One day, I hope to move onto narratives that talk about more universal experiences and have a higher entertainment value.

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¹ This "thought experiment" is referred to as Mary's Room.