Advisor: Jason Paradis + Lorena Salcedo-Watson

“Echoes of Youth”

I tend to draw inspiration from my childhood memories and all things that bring me joy. Recently, I have been desperately clinging to my past and inner child because I am afraid of what the future holds; I am afraid of entering true adulthood and losing my childlike awe and wonder of life—to face the reality that is to come. I, along with the rest of the world, lost years to the COVID-19 Pandemic. My peers and I lost our crucial years of growing up and having a taste of independence after high school. This period of time allowed me to remain as my parents’ little girl for a little longer. Although I hated how my time was taken away, I look back and I found myself longing for those years of quarantine—frankly, I miss being a little girl.

“Echoes of Youth” delves into my childhood emotional attachments, memories, and perceptions that I have carried with me along this walk in life. In this exhibition, I share the mourning of my past, my earnest desires to remain present, and the fears along with acceptance to what the future entails. I express new found emotions and I explore all these things in various mediums: stone lithographs, drypoint on plexiglass, oil paint, oil pastel, gouache, watercolor, charcoal, graphite, color pencil, and iridescent glitter.

if I could give you all the roses, this heart of mine stems from a bouquet of roses I received from my first love. I have trouble expressing my feelings to others and in a lot of ways fall short in how I show my affection for others. In turn, I gathered the only resources I have and carefully handcrafted a portrayal of my love. These materials are not necessarily archival, but the joy in ephemeral things gives way to be able to love one another as a cherished and lasting memory. May I be in remembrance of this endearment and may it last as the freshness of a garden: if i could give you all the roses, this heart of mine.

Palette & I gave me space to play with the colors of my palette, to discuss the perceptions that I have of myself, and to confidently confront the standards of how the world views different artistic styles. I have always thought of myself as a painter over any kind of artist. After taking a year hiatus of painting, I began experimenting for the first time with my color palette last Fall which led into this semester. I reference my current palette, replicating a larger version of it using multiple layers. Layer after layer, I use mediums I had frequently used as a child—pastels and colored pencils. I took the colors I referenced from my palette and let my hands pour the inner creativity I once had as a child, constantly and aimlessly working on every area at the same time. These vibrant colors have given me the freedom of expressing my true colors and grants me access to confront the conversation of what it means to be a “true” artist with the mold that society has created for us to fit into. Conforming into these standards forces me into burnout and holds me back from my potential artistic state which all leads to feelings of not being respected enough as an artist. I show the viewer my relationship to my childhood beginnings and my artistic capabilities in various styles so that I may show that I can give the viewer both if I wanted to—that I can, and I did.

“Right now in this moment, my youth. No matter who I was and no matter who I will be, let me show you who I am now!” Be Still is a self portrait depicting the desperation of capturing my youth and moments in front of me. Time feels as if it is running away from me or rushing me to a place I am not mentally prepared to be. Anxiety has been creeping up at me, resulting in distress and feelings of no control. This is a reflection and a reminder to be present in my youth so that my future self may remember these joyful experiences. No matter who I was and whoever I become, would I be able to reminisce in the current moment.

“Don’t Forget to Breathe” is a series created as a reminder to take a moment to appreciate both the life you are born in and the ephemeral things created for us to witness. I use dandelions as a means to convey the beauty in creations that may seem insignificant and small. We breathe in, imagine all our hopes and wishes, and breathe out. This series is a promise to myself to not forget the steps I have taken to get to this very point in time—to remember to breathe in the midst of chaos and the endless pursuit of life. I express this by using Forget-Me-Not flowers as a promise to myself: to cherish deeply and honor the relationships I have made along the way, and to give thanks to the life we even get to live—one breath at a time.

The “Echoes of Youth” series is the central series of my Senior Honors Project. It is a narrative sequence depicting the coming of age and transition into the next chapter in life. how long can i stay here? is the first of the series which conveys the essence of yearning to wait a little longer in my childhood whimsical imagination. How long can I reside in the comforts of my youth? How much longer do I have before I have to let go of my pink fluffy world? I ask these things despite knowing what is to come; I know that a new adventure awaits and is beckoning me into a new chapter of growth, that I must leave the things I have clinged to all while being in remembrance of these things that have shaped me and has shown me the purest form of joy.

Part two of “Echoes of My Youth” conveys my prayers asking if I could wait a little longer before I have to depart my vibrant, pink world—however, Time is above me and indifferent to my pleas. let me linger in the echoes of my youth depicts that no matter how earnestly I pray, I cannot control the inevitable passage of time. The sun will fall and the moon will rise; the brightness of the sun shifts to a new moonlight, signaling to the future where new beginnings may emerge.

The final installment of the series is Time has come. It is the moment of peace in which the answers and destinations are finally revealed to me. This the end of an era, an epiphany of acceptance of what is to come. The glitters have remained shimmering and have guided me constantly in my walk in life, ushering me to each new destination. The glistening reminds me to have hope in the midst of confusion—to reflect upon all the goodness in life wherever I will go, so that I may also be a beacon of light that sparkles and encourages others in their own journeys in life.

The “Watermelon” series illustrates my childhood memories of my grandmother, and her very own past tangling with our present. 나의 할머니 / My Grandma is part one of the series which is the adornment of my grandma. She is the essence of my family, a person who has lived an abundant and fulfilling life—as a daughter, sister, wife, mother, and grandmother. This portrait, the sweetest and purest form of affection, is the perception I’ve carried of her ever since I was a child. It leaves me pondering the perception that she carries of me in the memories of watching me grow up, as I cling to the past and present memories of her aging gracefully.

뿌리 와 덩굴 / The Root and The Vines is the second part of the “Watermelon” series, where my grandma is planted amongst watermelon and its vines encompass her. Her own roots sprout from a watermelon farm in the countryside of Jeolla Province in South Korea, where she grew up in her early years. Roots provide water and nutrients to the vines that travel to the watermelons so that they may prosper and ripen. I grew up seeing her as the root and vines of our family and she has always wished for us to thrive, that we are to live in abundance of not worldly things, but of hope and faith.

Concluding the “Watermelon” series, a complex present perception of my grandma is portrayed. “수박 겉 핥기” is a Korean proverb that roughly translates to “Scratching The Surface.” As much as my grandma embodies prosperity and endurance, she may also be the root of intergenerational trauma in our family, affecting generations down to me. The pressures strain each family member—stemming from deep love—eventually leads to unintentional hurt. She is still my kind grandmother, whose concern for her family knows no bounds. I am afraid to lose that pure affection I had of her as a child—so I scratch the surface of the rind, and remain savoring the sweetness of the center of the watermelon for as long as I can.

Subsequently, I desire to live the rest of my life in remembrance and in joy of what I have experienced that have all gotten me to this point. In the past year, a change in me occurred and I did not realize until the completion of this project: I have evolved so much not only in my art practice but also in my maturity. This project allowed me to delve into my vulnerabilities with a treasure trove of new emotions and uncovering perceptions of myself as well as the perceptions of people around me. Although I so desperately missed being the little girl that I was during the COVID-19 pandemic, for the first time in my life I admire who I am now. If I were to go back, I wonder what that little girl will think of me. After all the love and growing pains, I hope she is proud of who I have become and is excited—as I am—of who I will be.