CAVITYBOMB

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊.⭒☆MY ART YO☆⭒.‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊.⭒☆MY ART YO☆⭒.‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

• TAKE ME HOME PLZ
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COMMISSIONED WORK

I started Karen’s mural at the very end of February 2024. My Mom’s therapist, Karen, was moving to a new building, at that same time I was looking for a way to extend my art beyond the confines of my bedroom. I wanted an opportunity to prove myself in some elaborate way, so I asked her if I could paint a mural in her new office. She agreed and I began thumbnailing and using my digital tools to create the design that I’d project and trace onto the wall.When I jump into a new project I feel like I possess this intense capability that pushes me forward in my endeavors, but I think my passion blinds me to the prospective challenges that lay ahead. When I encounter frustrations, skill gaps, and setbacks it triggers this sense of imposter syndrome and fear. I feel as though I overestimated my capabilities and I’ve bit off way more than I could ever possibly chew. Suddenly I’m overthinking and wondering if I truly have what it takes.I had a lot of thoughts like that during this project. A lot of self doubt and frustration. Sometimes I’d be showing up absolutely dreading the creation of this mural that I begged the universe for. A lot of times I’d leave completely disappointed and upset at my progress or even the mural itself, sometimes I’d come back overwhelmed with the beauty of my creation. Writing this, I completely understand why people think artists are crazy.Taking breaks has definitely been key to maintaining my sanity and showing up consistently. I can think of countless times I’ve noticed frustration building inside of me and my mind would tell me to just keep going because eventually I will be satisfied and quash my irritation…of course that never actually happens, every. single. time i’ve tried I end up overworking things and fucking shit up. I've learned that frustration isn’t an emotion you just push through to find success, it is a warning that you must step away, take a break, and turn your attention elsewhere.I can’t say this has been a solo venture. This mural came to fruition at the hands of my friends as well. From input during the drawing process, to helping me lay flat colors, dancing at 12 am covered in paint, reassuring me time and time again that yes that color does look good there, and of course, listening to me vent about my vexations. Thank you to all who’ve supported me and made this possible.This mural reflects an intimate part of my own story in therapy and my journey to becoming a professional artist. I’m happy that this project will live on in a space where it holds meaning to all clients who walk in, whether it inspires conversation, or reminds people what they are capable of in therapeutic settings.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊.⭒☆MY ART YO☆⭒.‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

• TAKE ME HOME PLZ
• ALL
• PERSONAL ARTWORKS
• COMMISSIONED WORK
• WIPS

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WIPS

ARTHUR (ART)

Art was raised in a house dictated by the trades, located in a living sector on the outskirts of a dense city, eaten by concrete labyrinths and infestations of vines, weeds, and strange plants that would illuminate in the late hours of night by the moon's glow. “The junkyard’ was the title people threw around most when referring to the outskirts. They can call it a ‘living sector’ as much as they want, but what it really functions as, is a dump where factories and such dump the remains of trash, discarded metals, plastics, and the dysfunctional corpses of factory equipment.Art had 4 siblings, Eva, Jasper, Shrapnel and Lez. All 5 of them hated the Junkyard once their imaginations grew duller and playing in piles of Junk started to get old. They’d begun to tinker with the broken machines and gadgets that filled the junkyard, often spending hours piecing them back together and making them work again. As they grew, they started inventing things and building with scraps in the piles. That got old too and they all wanted more.

-ˋˏ ༻✿VIVICA✿༺ ˎˊ-

Born into financial hardship and family disorder, it seemed as if only one destiny awaited her.Crash Point was originally constructed to serve as a recess for higher-status individuals visiting Pleasureville. Vivica found it hard to believe the stories that spoke of lavish hotels, grand casinos, and luxurious pools. All of these places were unrecognizable from their former extravagant history. Crash Point had morphed into cheap housing for the ‘less fortunate’ as the city expanded and the homeless population rose. Casino owners, hotel proprietors, and distinguished bar and restaurant owners sold their properties and ran off to more profitable sectors of The Confines.Those who bought such properties became landlords to people like Vivica’s financially struggling, drug-addicted parents. The landlords collected the cheap rent while allowing the buildings to fall into disrepair.
These dilapidated, hazardous old hotels and casinos were a lifeline for people who would otherwise be homeless.Crash Point housing was a mix of individuals from all walks of life in the city, at least in the beginning. Back when Crash Point integrated with the streets, children were a rare sight. There were no schools or libraries in Crash Point; seven-year-old Vivica walked to another division in The Confines for her education. Her mother sometimes accompanied her on these walks when she was selling.This routine was short-lived. Vivica had only graduated sixth grade when her mother was caught and arrested. This event landed her in foster care, along with her younger brother, who was only eight years old.Vivica tried to remain optimistic, holding out hope for a safer environment in foster care with her sibling, away from the strange men lurking in the hotels and casinos, away from sexual predators and drug addicts.The two siblings were placed in a heavily underfunded and crowded group home. It was not much different from living in Crash Point, but with fewer junkies and more young girls. Vivica and Zakaiya were inseparable at all times and extremely reserved. Many of the girls made up rumors about the two due to their elusive past.This arrangement didn’t last very long either, at least not for Vivica’s little brother, who got adopted.Now completely alone, Vivica spent her days in the group home scheming to reunite with her brother.

˙˙⋆𓃮✮KILLIAN✮𓃮⋆˙˙

blahblah blah.

⋆❀°SILVINA°❀⋆

Silvina's family has nurtured a beloved bakery for generations,
a cherished cornerstone of their community. Though Silvina's arrival was
unexpected—accidental teen pregnancy—her mother's numerous sisters embraced her with open arms.
As she grew up, it was her aunties who raised her and taught her the craft of baked goods.The bakery continued to flourish, in celebration of Silvina
and her girlfriend Minerva's five-year anniversary, her aunties surprised the couple with a gift: their very first apartment. It had a beautiful balcony with a bistro set where Minerva would sit and read her poem books and Silvina would feed the birds.It was so unfortunate that the love of her life would perish only a short while later.