Loneliness, secrecy and making, the space in which all three of these things intersect and have done so for years, a space for drag, a space for sexuality and queerness, for safety and comfort, tragedy and hurt, nightmares and nights alone.
This site has been the space in which every source image, embroidery piece, painting, illustration and miniature has come from.
It has housed nights of fear, of clarity and of happiness, it is a space that has sheltered and safeguarded identity and the coming out of it. It has housed conversations over pronouns in bed and safe words for triggers, home to the biggest secrets and sometimes the best hiding places. It has also become the space to perform every part of identity, sexuality and gender. A room like this is a familiar space, one to call home, but it is also a space we often feel isolated and distanced within.
It is the site of loneliness not only during this pandemic but long before, it is the place for criticality, suffering, escape and relief. It is the place in which my works have come to form and lastly it is the place in which my work has arrived and will lay to rest.