ARTIST STATEMENT: I am preoccupied with individual identity, its sublimation, dissipation, and solidification when met with the unstable collective identity. How does one defy classification, or come to define it? How do we explain our selves when labels at hand change fluidly, as if they were written in the air? I see the clothes as me in Puerto Rico: billowing as they formed, lost, and reformed semi-translucent shapes in the wind and the sun as they hung from clotheslines. In a way, I’ve lived a small-town existence in my native Brooklyn. Maybe it was the summers and years in the mountains of Florida in Puerto Rico that influenced me. Perhaps it was Williamsburg itself, a small, neglected community when I was a child, now something else. I did not feel enriched by the experience, nor part of it. We no longer had any usefulness. My work exists along those lines. I imagine my movements through the city and see my body moving along the streets. I see a millipede made of a million of me going around the corner of Myrtle Avenue. On clotheslines the work remains connected to each other but are pinched to their positions. It reminds me of community.