The energy, love, compassion, and fight I imagine will be radiating around the earth on January 21, 2017, completely blows me away. A critical mass of people standing in solidarity for what is right. Thinking about the Women's March on Washington overwhelmed me and I was sparked to pick up a paint brush.
My painting began with a quick sketch of Trump Tower, followed by a sea of people, marching their way to Washington, and then the fist of the feminist fight. But then, without forethought, the profile of DJT emerged. I could see the lines of his face. He made his way onto my canvas, in dreary shades of blue.
I had to walk away from the painting. But then a few hours later, and on the night of the Super Moon, I picked up the paint brush and added some red. Then some yellow and orange. I found a rainbow in the break of the storm and I was now able to search for the beauty, the color, and the love. I added so much pigment and light to his color of darkness. I added red, for love, blood and life. Orange, for sour, for the color of his skin, plastic and fake. Yellow, for light, warmth, energy, and source. Green, for his greed, covered with a hood, his tower of power. Blue, from which the painting was born, a place of hope, empathy, rage, sadness and tears. Disdain and disbelief. Purple, for the knock out, for the wild feminist, and because it's what happens when red and blue work together. I added some pink. For hope, awareness and for the pig that he is.
And then I worked on his face. I studied the lines of his lips, nose, eyes, and his wrinkles. And, of course, his chin. Quivering. Brazen, crass and vain. His face of racism, misogyny and xenophobia. The more I painted and studied his face, the more I began to feel a strong visceral reaction. It made me sick.
So I scratched out his eye and the side of his face. This is NOT my president. This is not the face of what our country was founded on or what our country stands for. For what he stands for, I will not.
I continued to paint. Translating my voice through art. I thought about the sea of people who feel the same as I do. And like that, they emerged. The people stand tall, in a line of solidarity at the base of his tall tower. Plastered across his face. This is my painting. This is my body. And this is my heart, beating with yours.
May this painting serve as a reminder to OWN your voice and to stand tall with one another, with hope and passion. And to always fight for what is right.
Now, more than ever, is the time we STAND UP for what we know is right. And so we do, and so we shall.
On January 21, 2017, there will be thousands of us - maybe even millions - at the Women’s March on Washington, marching in cities all across this great divided nation. The streets will be flooded with love, passion, and strength.
We will NOT stand for the destruction of our rights, our health, our safety and our families.
We will NOT stand for the hate that emboldens white power.
We will NOT stand with anyone who assaults, demeans, or belittles women.
We will NOT be quiet. We will NOT be ignored.
We will NOT back down.
I am strong, you are strong, WE ARE STRONG. Stronger Together.
On January 21, and all the days before and after, I stand with you to say hate is NOT okay. Knowing - in the core of our beings - that LOVE CONQUERS ALL!