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View in a Room ArtworkView in a Room Background
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VIEW IN MY ROOM

some imaginary room im too afraid to enter... Drawing

Jasmine Elizabeth

United States

Drawing, Marker on Paper

Size: 9 W x 12 H x 0.1 D in

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$395

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About The Artwork

It can be compelling to strive to understand something, to assert that we understand what that work is, and have that be what defines it, the artist, and, ultimately, what defines us. In reality, any singular work, any singular person, is more than the interpretations someone else may apply to them, their history, or their ethnographic background. What defines me is not what someone else has decided I appear to be, and there is no work we can consolidate in a sentence, an answer, a definition. For a work to mean something, there will never be one satisfying explanation for what it is and why it is meaningful. For a work to stick with you, it has to give you that annoying, nagging feeling. We should never want to be easily definable, we should strive to be something more, something enduring, something simultaneously aggravating, intolerable, and magnificent. It is my belief that art should never be clear. It should never be an easy conclusion. One should not be able to look at an image and say this artist, put this here, for this reason, and that is why it is good. Artists not aspire to be people who create definitions, who exist in boxes. We should strive to defy our confines and create a constantly evolving reality for ourselves and the work we create.

Details & Dimensions

Drawing:Marker on Paper

Original:One-of-a-kind Artwork

Size:9 W x 12 H x 0.1 D in

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Delivery Time:Typically 5-7 business days for domestic shipments, 10-14 business days for international shipments.

In being who I am, I and everything I create are inextricably linked to a social and political identity. When I overthink my ideas, I find myself feeling they are beholden to something or someone else, some greater history that I have no control over, though I am constantly considering. I wonder how I will engage with this history and when and where I enter into it; this kind of discourse, for someone like me, with a penchant to over analyse, is overwhelming. I live in a reality where lines are not so clear, where when someone looks at me, they may see many things or only one. It becomes the onus of the person who is beholding to decide or determine what I am. I say what as opposed to who because that is usually what people try to arrive at either directly or indirectly, sensitively or insensitively. The path and the conclusion are always different, but in the end, it is always the same. Me, as object, not as myself; me as whatever someone else sees, and all of the feelings and experiences they bring along with that conclusion. I remember someone who eventually became a friend of mine, an older woman, said to me in our first open conversation, where no one else was present: “What, if I may ask, are you?” She asked in such a kind way, but she had no idea this question was crushing, that in every interaction I have with someone, I wonder when this question will be asked, when they will ask, demand, a what, a definition. I have always wondered if this is a means of tethering ones’ self to a reality, to a system of knowing, a reason, an explanation, an answer. In a much more jarring interaction, a colleague who never became my friend, asked me on multiple occasions: “What are you?,” “Are you Black?” They kept asking, twice in private, and once in front of someone I did not know, which was embarrassing. They kept digging, becoming more and more invasive, ignoring my clear discomfort and evasion of their questions. I still wonder sometimes at what they were hoping to arrive. What purpose would my answer serve to them? How could a sense of knowing impact their reality? How could I right their world, tether them here, with one, simple answer? The issue, here, is that answers are never simple. They are never enough. This is a concept made evident when one gives a young child a simple task.

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