I moved from south Atlanta to the fourth ward historic district living in an old racist cotton dock turned asbestos lofts for about a year.
I painted these walls knowing I wouldn't be in that loft forever, and that I couldn't take the works with me. Another great exercise in conceptualizing death via paint.
I found immense solace and even comfort in the idea of being disowned by my artwork. also found that I really do create just for me and only me. ironic, considering the result.
I love the idea of people having a relationship with the living walls, external of me as a helicopter dance mom.
L.R. Bennett