During my visit to Guam in summer of 2013, I noticed that my grandparents’ dog was living in what used to be an air conditioning unit. I became deeply interested in the makeshift nature of Guam’s doghouses but was further impressed by the unshakeable love for humans that some of these backyard dogs displayed, despite their living conditions and lack of human affection. Yard dogs spend their lives tied to a chain in tropical heat, with limited space to roam, often covered with fleas and suffering from health problems, and receiving little to no human attention aside from being brought a dish of scraps. As a statesider who grew up thinking of the dog as a member of the family, the relationship to owners and their dogs on Guam became, for me, a symbol of cultural dissonance.
I drove around the southern part of the island taking snapshots of some of the different shelters created to shield the yard dogs from the sun, some of which are as spare as a piece of plastic leaned against a tree. The compositions include only the space that the dogs have access to; everything else is left empty and the pieces are left unframed to emphasize the sense of isolation and limitation within the vastness of space.
Oil on mylar, 2014 - 2015
Copic marker on translucent vellum, 2014 - 2016
Hand fabricated, cast, and computer-aided designs.
Seeker of the Forbidden Sandwich
This extreme close-up of a cat's face can be interpreted widely as shocked, desperate, or accusatory. A relatable and dramatic narrative provided by the title "Seeker of the Forbidden Sandwich" paired with the facial expression and use of heightened colors, all work together to reference classic horror movie posters.
Salem Mural Slam 2017
So Pretty It Hurts
Punto Urban Art Museum, 2017
First Place Winner, Juried competition of 20 local artists
The third painting in my cat mural series features the genetic mess that is my stepmother’s adopted Persian. The title references selective breeding, the answer to viewer's most frequent question "What's wrong with that cat?" As a joke, I wanted the elegance of the painting to contradict the ugliness of the subject.
The calming company of my cat has been, for me, one of few respites in these past several months of political turbulence. While my days might be full of stress about political threats to my personal well-being and the well-being of others, the sound of purring unfailingly quiets my anxieties and anchors me in the present. This painting of my personal zen master is an offering of a daily moment of peace to the residents of Beverly.
Red Fence Gallery is a project of Beverly Arts District
Beverly MA 2017
Photo credit: Bob Packert
Rats, Bats, Pigeons
An ephemeral installation dedicated to Atlantic Mills, where Kameko had a studio space for five years. Atlantic Mills was an industrial era textile mill. It's still a functioning factory which also houses several businesses.
Kameko created a stencil inspired by the wallpaper pattern from the walls in her studio, modified to reflect the fauna of the mill: rats, bats, and pigeons. The stencil was painted in charcoal onto the sidewalk directly in front of the mill. Over the course of just a few days, the installation was slowly removed from foot traffic, and finally from rainfall. The temporality of this installation was meant to reflect the living history of the historic building.
This installation is both a hello to my neighbors of Olneyville, and a love letter to Atlantic Mills, where I had a studio space for five years.
I traced a section of wallpaper from my space, reduced the detail, and modified some elements to reflect some of the fauna of the mill: rats, bats, and pigeons.
People were amused when they noticed the fauna, as its something they can relate to. Some were interested and inquisitive, and stopped to watch me install.
While it was unintentional that I overlapped someone’s tag, it provided an interesting contrast with the usual art that is seen on the streets of Manton Ave.
I installed this piece on the sidewalk on Manton Ave, so that the viewer could see the mill in the background. It is also quite close to the sign, and I can see the site from my studio window.
After three days of foot traffic, the installation was beginning to lift away.
While the mill has been long-lasting, the lives that occured within it were constantly changing. It rained after one week, washing away the image. The impermanence of the installation was intended to reflect the transience of life within the mill.