Cultural isolation is a heavy cloak to wear. I’m from Bangladesh but never felt Bangladeshi enough due to not knowing how to read or write Bangla; I spent my childhood and adolescence in Thailand but never learned to speak Thai; I was raised by conservative parents in a fairly progressive society. For a long time, I felt like I didn’t fully belong anywhere, and I felt like I needed to hide who I was, especially once I started to explore my sexuality. Self-hatred and internalized homophobia coalesced into such a force that I turned to self-medicating with alcohol and self-harm by the time I was fourteen.
The ability to aggressively splash and smear paint on paper and canvas was the only way I could express my suffocating rage and guilt, the only way I could make my suffering visible to the people around me. Art made my challenging teenage years more tolerable, but for a long time, it wasn’t enough. In my senior year of high school, I lacked motivation and almost didn’t graduate. My growing passion for art, though, helped me find the energy to work on my IB Visual Arts exhibition pieces after school nearly every day of that spring semester. The studio brought me comfort and a sense of purpose. Creating cathartic art in this space pushed me to graduate and to display the pieces that could communicate my struggles.
My art used to be inspired by my hardships, creating as an act of catharsis. About two years ago, I began to acknowledge my alcohol problem; I couldn't stop thinking about the damage I was causing to my body, specifically my organs. Gory images of organs would randomly flash into my mind, and these vivid thoughts inspired much of my art at the time. But since Fall 2023, after the much-needed wake-up call of being dismissed from Columbia College Chicago, I’ve mentally grown and started to heal. My inspirations have shifted, and I’ve been motivated to create art inspired by my culture, specifically Bengali folk art. The more I learn about the pain, suffering and immense courage of the Bangladeshi people that led to our independence, the stronger my motivation grows to showcase my culture and its history to an international audience. I am only able to live the life I live, and make the art I make, because of their sacrifice.
I’ve come to realize that my emotions are the key to my art practice. While I have moved away from painting as an act of catharsis, I still find that my emotions are what fuel most of my projects. When I learn about something that moves me emotionally, I feel an urge to research further into it and this often leads to the creation of art. Currently, my work is focused on examining and exploring hierarchical power structures, honing in on the patriarchy. A common motif in my current work is a symbol inspired by vulvas. I use this symbol to reimagine power structures, and portray it as a divine entity, capable of birthing life. I do this to question why we've accepted the patriarchy when there are women who are able to grow and birth life into the world. Women are the creators. Women are the protectors. Women are divine.
