The fabric works I am presenting here use the Thread Painting technique, the continuous manual movement of fabric under the moving needle of a stationary sewing machine. All my pieces are completely covered in thread, even the backgrounds. Initially, I developed the idea for these works as a 2-D design class project I was teaching at Texas Tech University in 1987-89. Originally, they were painted in Gouache paint and had their reference in the color theories of Josef Albers. I narrowed the parameters down to one tube of color, and black and white for tinting and shading.

The first light moving through space, ecstatic in the dark, made patterns, golden bright patterns of light, like ripples in water, make patterns, and as if everything loves to turn in a circle, within the cosmic and within the atomic, from turning rapturous round and round stars burst into light lightning up a heaven.

Their light turning around and spreading through heaven from the beginning, made patterns, since the first star.

My work begins just the same way. Twenty-five years ago, I painted watercolor circles that reminded me of light reflections (for a very long I rejoiced contemplating light), and I called them “reflections.” Later, with copies of the watercolor circles, I began to make patterns as collages, at the beginning arbitrarily, and later, when I began to work with a computer, I understood I was following the same order nature makes patterns. Later, by grouping them together, I created a series I called “interludes.” Then later I projected a multitude of them on my computer screen, and I started to play by compressing them to the maximum and then expanding them, suddenly some of those patterns lit up like stars and galaxies in the night sky. I knew then that what I was seeing was cosmic, it was the universe. One image was very much like the image of the very deep space taken by the Hubble telescope, I called that series “cosmic nights”.

That was the beginning of a twenty year voyage into space, I blew up stars and created supernova, I merged galaxies together at will, and later I started to modify cosmic visions, stretching them, rendering them plastic and sculpting them, warping them in magnificent ways, I created an extensive number of series and named them according to my understanding like; poetics of space, cosmic phenomena, cosmic encounters, cosmic metamorphosis, cosmic goddesses, on the plasticity of the universe, cosmic splendors, into the universe, cosmic realms, cosmic abstractions, just to name a few. Sometimes I will see images taken by telescopes that remind me of images of my work, and I will post them side by side on public media under art versus science.

Recently, someone told me that my latest images reminded him of Laniakea. I didn’t know what that was, so he showed me on Google images of Laniakea, it is the super cluster where our galaxy is located, and there was truly a resemblance. I was amazed, often I felt I was lost in space, lost in the universe, and not knowing where, not that it truly mattered, and now I couldn’t believe how far my work took me, imagine as far as Laniakea.., unbelievable astronomical distances, to believe that in my images was made possible, is beyond my mind to grasp.

I am very thankful to the universe, to the whole of heaven, for those priceless unexpected gifts. I am thankful for the extraordinary, the exhilarating, the enthralling experience I had, and I hope to continue it for myself and for others.

My work emerges at the intersection of rupture and resilience. I paint not to depict what is already seen, but to excavate the layers beneath—memory, culture, justice, and the quantum threads that bind them. Each canvas becomes an arena where contradictions collide: beauty and brutality, reverence and rebellion, fragility and force. I am drawn to socially engaged subject matter—stories erased, voices silenced, identities contested—and I confront these tensions through abstraction that is both emotional and intellectual.

I believe abstraction is not an escape from reality but a deeper plunge into it. By rejecting literal representation, I invite viewers to enter the liminal space where intuition guides perception. This is where we recognize the patterns of time, trauma, and transformation. In mixed media—pastel, acrylic, collage, and textural interventions—I layer contradictions the way culture layers histories. A brushstroke may evoke a geologic fault line or a heartbeat; a pastel fragment may recall a child’s sketch or a tribal mark erased by assimilation. Every mark is a negotiation between presence and erasure.

Cultural history and social justice anchor my work. Pieces like Abuela speak to Native identity fragmented by systemic violence, legal erasures, and forgotten lineages. Works in my “Webb of Life” series draw from astrophysics, the James Webb Telescope, and the radical notion that time itself bends, tessellates, and collapses. I am compelled by how science, like art, destabilizes certainty and forces us to reimagine our place in the cosmos. This duality—ancestral memory grounded in earth, and infinite wonder reaching into the stars—threads through much of my practice.

Yet my work is also deeply personal. Painting is where I metabolize experience, grief, and survival. In moments of rupture—whether systemic injustice or intimate harm—I return to the canvas as both witness and weapon. The act of painting is itself an assertion of agency: the hand that once trembled in silence now leaves indelible marks. My art becomes a refusal to disappear, an insistence on visibility, an invocation that beauty and justice must coexist.

Community is essential to this practice. I aim not to create distant admiration but to spark conversation, connection, and collective imagining. I believe creativity is a form of resilience accessible to all, and my work participates in democratizing that access—whether through community exhibitions, collective projects, or interactive installations that blur the line between artist and viewer.

Ultimately, my work is an exploration of paradox. It is about holding multiplicity without collapse: the geometry of time and the weight of history; the joy of resistance and the ache of survival; the mystery of the cosmos and the intimacy of memory. My canvases are not answers but openings—portals into the unspoken, the unresolved, and the infinite possibilities of becoming.

I love art. I learned to paint young, and have been doing it incessantly. I use photography to find inspiration and sometimes the photo needs not to be interpreted into a painting. I just want to show my view of the world, to the world.

I am a site-specific artist who builds sculptural installations that are inspired by the location in which they are installed. My work is intended to encourage the viewer to appreciate these spaces both aesthetically and in terms of their social justice implications.

The way certain landscapes can acquire meaning based on decisive events and how site-responsive artwork can enhance or challenge preconceived notions about a particular place fascinates me. Most often, I convey this fascination by creating compositions constructed out of thousands of feet of white twine brushed with an invisible, ultraviolet acrylic. As the sun sets or the light dims, the strings are illuminated with blacklight, mimicking twilight. The completed piece is a multi-sensory experience intended to engulf the visual senses and reawaken the simple intrigue of looking.

Growing up, I didn’t have a clear understanding of what art was until I took a class in 6th grade called “Artes Plastica”. The teacher created a flower vase and shaded the bottom, which caught my attention and sparked my interest in art. I found myself enchanted by paintings and would stop to admire them for moments at a time. As I got older, I began doodling during work meetings, and my coworkers noticed my lack of interest in the discussions.

This led me to rediscover my passion for art. My affinity for vibrant colors and their ability to evoke joy, happiness, and excitement became my reference point. Through the inspiration and dedication of my 6th-grade teacher, I found my personal artistic direction. Art has become a new world for me, and I’ve discovered my medium in which I can dance with my brush and stroke each color onto a canvas.

Creating art has become fulfilling, and I want future generations to see and feel what I do when I create.
My love for art has allowed me to discover my identity and has become my passion. Through art, I am able to express my emotions and connect with others.

My work in fine arts has principally been in 2 classes of abstract paintings: oils and water-based paints. However, I have completed numerous works in the drawing. I focus on color, texture, methodology of delivery, and composition. In composition, I am interested in positive space and negative space as well. I believe the painting is a manifestation of my emotional state of both conscious and unconscious feelings.

The paintings I have entered for your consideration in this show are “rebellious” in aspects of the techniques used in their construction. “Adjacent Universes” employs the use of geometric blocks of rainbow-like colors. “Man Down” has linearity which is made by the way the forms are made; this can be expressed in mathematical terms. Finally, “Beach Figures” is “rebellious” in that the figures are formed by gesso which is not a common technique.

My work tells a story of disconnection— generational, cultural, and spiritual. I am currently on a journey to find my way in my culture, building a relationship with my mother on the reservation, and finally truly healing from my daughter’s death 16 years ago.

My work at the moment is a visceral display of grief, loss, reconnection, and healing. It is painful and ugly and beautiful and bright. I hope this work inspires people to evaluate their trauma and history, come to terms with grief, and open old ragged wounds so they may heal properly.

The process I use to create my art is feral. My pieces are painted, burned, and sewn. I want people to feel the chaos and calm and see their own journey in the lines and jagged edges.

I like to use found materials and unconventional tools in my work. When I create, my biggest hope is that people walk away and want to find a way to forge and release what is inside of them as well.

As a watercolor artist, my work seeks to capture the delicate interplay of light, color, and emotion. Watercolor, with its fluidity and unpredictability, is the perfect medium to express the transient beauty I see in the world around me. Each stroke and wash allows me to convey not just the visual, but the visceral essence of my subjects, whether they be landscapes, figures, or abstract compositions.

My inspiration comes from the natural world and the fleeting moments that often go unnoticed. The way sunlight filters through leaves, the subtle shifts in the sky at dawn and dusk, and the quietude of a still-life arrangement all find their way into my paintings. Through watercolor, I strive to evoke a sense of peace, wonder, and contemplation in the viewer, inviting them to pause and appreciate the ephemeral nature of life.

The transparency and luminosity of watercolor enable me to explore the depths of color and texture, creating layers that reflect the complexity and beauty of the world. I embrace the serendipitous nature of the medium, where the mingling of water and pigment can lead to unexpected and delightful results. This element of surprise is integral to my creative process, reminding me to let go and allow the painting to evolve organically.

In my work, I aim to balance control and spontaneity, structure, and fluidity. This dynamic tension is where I find the most expressive potential. By pushing the boundaries of traditional watercolor techniques, I endeavor to create works that are not only visually engaging but also resonate on a deeper emotional level.

Ultimately, my goal is to create art that speaks to the heart, offering a moment of respite and reflection in our fast-paced world. Through my watercolors, I hope to share the joy and serenity I find in the simple, yet profound beauty that surrounds us all.