Just before the quarantine, I was thinking through a series of images involving these sort of performatively domestic double self portraits. The goal was to visually navigate what it means to be in a domestic space as someone in a queer body/a body that hasn’t had access to the domestic space. If nothing else, they were a way for me to re-establish my studio practice after moving to a new city, and a way to motivate myself to make more work and get ready for grad school applications.

After the quarantine, I’ve been at a bit of a loss. In a small apartment with two other people, I’ve felt a little stifled artistically, especially since I’ve been working with this sort of performed solitude. In response to these upended circumstance, I’ve retraced my steps creatively, making a return to craft. I’ve been carding wool and spinning yarn to be knit up in a larger project, with no grand artistic intent. No semiotics, no theory, no meaning making, no portfolio or career building, just handwork and decision making. I don’t know where it’ll take me, or if I’m being avoidant, but for now it feels like the correct practice.