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I was living in an artist’s loft space in Brooklyn when the owner decided to convert the building into a luxury condo. I needed enough space to live and work and I found myself north of the city… |
I was living in an artist’s loft space in Brooklyn when the owner decided to convert the building into a luxury condo. I needed enough space to live and work and I found myself north of the city. The area was filled with bankers and lawyers and diplomats — the complete antithesis of an artist community, dirty sidewalks replaced with manicured lawns. A basement became my new studio. I spent hours at a time in my own world, unaware of my surroundings, until every so often, I would come up for air. Many afternoons, I found myself walking among the virtual mansions right outside my door. I began to fixate on them, my imagination going wild as I wondered about the people inside, my neighbors. I returned to my studio and began combining luscious oils and ironic narrative to invite myself into a world that both attracts and repulses me. Whether this world is reality or strictly fantasy, it almost doesn’t matter. They’re the neighbors I’ve come to know.
