TRYNNA FIND SOMEWHERE TO BLEED IN THIS SHARK TANK
Death, taxes, and a weekly Sunday phone call to my parents back in Texas.
Of just under four years of conversation topics that have come and gone, a running theme has been one’s ever-changing relationship with self-commodification (especially in the build-up to graduation), and trying to find my way with parents who’ve had more time to reckon with their own versions of the same, ubiquitous pressure. Naturally, these initially comfort-seeking conversations took on different forms when held with others close to me. Showcased in this collection of chapters titled: “EIRA,” “MARK,” “FELIX,” and “MATHIAS” are, at their core, four such conversations. Each participant was also given a Fujifilm disposable camera and the lone instruction to shoot their life in terms of places that have shaped their character.
Fashioned as self-sufficient file folders containing text transcriptions of the interviews, corresponding CDs, clear annotation pages, and reminiscent laminated objects, this project aims to paint a portrait of our sense of self when freed from needing to put on a marketable face. I hope every reader will be able to see a piece of themselves, not necessarily through obvious characteristics, but through the similarities in how we see the world and the many mirrors it holds up to us. Box-ticking similarities won’t make two people kindred spirits, but a shared sense of perspective just might. We can never be short on people and places to find refuge. (Title in reference to MIKE — “Ipari Park” (1:27)
THESIS FAIR
{April 17th, 2026}
On April 17, 2026, I exhibited “Trynna Find Somewhere to Bleed in This Shark Tank” in its full form at the Parsons School of Design BFA Communication Design Thesis Fair (”Making Space”). The book itself was nested on a stone and gold-plated holder sat atop a rug and tablecloth, both with the title screenprinted for display. To allow visitors to fully experience the multimedia elements integral to the piece, a wireless CD player and clear bluetooth headphones were housed on top of a gallery plaque made of walnut wood that I had sanded and laser engraved. Lastly, a CRTV playing a series of home videos passing from my dad’s hands to mine were played on loop to showcase those moments that just can’t be captured in still images.
It was a beautiful day, and I thank everyone who came by to experience with my whole heart.
It was a beautiful day, and I thank everyone who came by to experience with my whole heart.
DREAM-TO-DISC
Physical music has always had ...
Death, taxes, and a weekly Sunday phone call to my parents back in Texas.
Of just under four years of conversation topics that have come and gone, a running theme has been one’s ever-changing relationship with self-commodification (especially in the build-up to graduation), and trying to find my way with parents who’ve had more time to reckon with their own versions of the same, ubiquitous pressure. Naturally, these initially comfort-seeking conversations took on different forms when held with others close to me. Showcased in this collection of chapters titled: “EIRA,” “MARK,” “FELIX,” and “MATHIAS” are, at their core, four such conversations. Each participant was also given a Fujifilm disposable camera and the lone instruction to shoot their life in terms of places that have shaped their character.
Fashioned as self-sufficient file folders containing text transcriptions of the interviews, corresponding CDs, clear annotation pages, and reminiscent laminated objects, this project aims to paint a portrait of our sense of self when freed from needing to put on a marketable face. I hope every reader will be able to see a piece of themselves, not necessarily through obvious characteristics, but through the similarities in how we see the world and the many mirrors it holds up to us. Box-ticking similarities won’t make two people kindred spirits, but a shared sense of perspective just might. We can never be short on people and places to find refuge. (Title in reference to MIKE — “Ipari Park” (1:27)