So, it began quite innocently- although I suppose none of my conversations with my boyfriend are innocent. Insightful, comedic, challenging, loving, passionate? Absolutely! Perhaps that’s the inspirational appeal of our dialogue. Anyway, we were discussing the uncanny ability that black (American) people have at confining themselves to a box. My art practice seems to be overly concerned with disrupting this pattern as a personal matter of course, in fact breaking out of what my boyfriend calls “The CoonBox”.
Something about the word itself is aesthetically pleasing- CoonBox, CoonBox, CoonBox (say it 7 times fast :->), and I am compelled to mimic this rhythm visually. The CoonBox is an equal opportunity confiner and hope to expose its dangers. In the meantime check below for a pieces of the CoonBox mythology I am creating…
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