Inspired by me conflicting feelings around the Thanksgiving myth we grew up with, and feeling solidarity with my African, Latinx and Native brothers and sisters. “Your Land…Our Hands” is a painting about boundaries.
The land, the sky, the trees, and even the sun, are all encompassed by boundaries.
Boundaries set, designed by the white imperialists who invaded. “This Land is My Land“…and as they invaded, divided, and settled on boundaries, the invaders stole from the Native, they enslaved the African and Latinx.
Their hands, their hearts, their blood, their sweat and their tears built this nation so the white race could have dominion. We have that dominion, and we are so entirely desperate to hold onto it.
Whereas I chose to put boundaries around the land, the sky, the trees, and the sun, the hands of the brown folk and the blood have no boundaries. The white imperialists did not exercise boundaries of restraint, of respect, or empathy as they conquered, stole and enslaved and forced people of brown, red, and black skin to build this nation.