“The Skin I Was Born In” (6.5.25)
My tigers being pink highlights what it feels like to grow up queer and different from the people around you. To be pink when you are supposed to be orange. The skin of the tiger becomes a physical manifestion of these differences, differences that are often met with love, pride and support, but equally make you an easy target to hatred and discrimination. For my final exhibition, I
made a pink tiger-skin rug. Charlotte Mei’s “Like a Melody: Myths, Memories,
and Fantasy,” (2024) features a large, soft-sculpture cat, which offers escape from
reality through its nostalgic imagery. I made my rug in a similarly cute style.
However, I wanted to “shed the skin” of my innocent, childhood perspective of
queerness. By “skinning” my pink tigers, I violently divide the self and one’s
queerness. Without the skin, all that remains is tissue, organs, bone- the
common traits of both pink and orange tigers. I display the skin like a
battle-wound: the consequence of an ugly fight for a place in society. Though
my work is mostly anecdotal, this piece is an ode to everyone who has fought
for queerness. Today’s climate is unsteady. Progression seems to have haltered
and even regressed. Now more than ever, it is vital to recognise that queerness
is not a weakness, but a crucial part of our identities.
Cattitude Magazine:
(A5 zine, printed copies of acrylic and watercolour pieces)
The Cat’s (in) the Bag!
(textile sculpture)