“I want to honor every part of me even the messy and problematic parts”
A Cal State University, Long Beach alumni, Priscilla S. Flores is an artist deeply involved in painting and drawing. The work exudes a realistic quality and a need for human connection, which lines up with the artist’s inclination to focus on the “notion of time, memory and human complexity through a figurative and narrative space”.
Personal history, ancestral background, and the disconnect between the mental and emotional self are the main themes that push her to create, which stems from experiences that challenge her personal and cultural identity. Currently, the more recent work has an emphasis on the self as it pertains to its physical form, its surroundings, and mental state. Stemming from a period of recovery after an injury last fall, the recent paintings are a comeback from a year-long hiatus in 2020, which was a driving force for her to get back into painting.
Flores was part of an art residency in Oceano this summer, where she was compelled by the sand dunes and the beach to paint “If You Can't Find The Sea I Will Take You There.”
She explains that “it was so unreal to me, I couldn’t help but laugh the moment I could only see mountains of sand on the horizon. I never really grew up going to the beach much; I grew up in a very dry and hilly town within LA County … We sat down and took in the scenery (talking about the dunes) I was mesmerized by the sand and just how soft it all felt (the sun, air, wind, even though it brushed your face, it was all soft to me). I guess with this painting I wanted to capture that softness.” Being in a new environment allowed Flores to channel the sensual nature of sand to bring forward onto the painting. It represents a convergence or a meeting place, where the birds stand for time, travel, and spirits connecting as one.
She was also inspired by the song, “Lady Daydream” by Mr. Twin Sister, echoing the airy feeling of the painting. She mentions that “It floats in your ear and hits that part of your brain that makes you want to daydream.”
As Flores finishes up with the residency, she is currently working on several works in progress, which she shares detail images of.
The self-portraits or “room paintings” as she calls them, are an ode to her surrounding environment, representing a snapshot of building up a routine as she was recovering from her injury. The disarray of her room shows her mental state at the time, as the physical clutter reflects the countless things going on in her mind at that moment.
The music records are what she has been listening to over the summer. She says, “The orange record is by a famous Brazilian singer named Roberto Carlos who I’ve grown up listening to, same with John Denver----thanks to my dad.” In many ways, these paintings reflect her personal history and her influences.
She states that “ The drawing pouch has been my best friend since quarantine and my recovery, it’s traveled with me, it’s still being used. The bra I just added because I had a nice drawing of it in my sketchbook, also threw it in there to add to the clutter, even though I don’t really use them. This painting is an intimate invitation to see my room and to see me adjusting back to what life is now (just as everyone is still trying to do after these past 2 years of covid).”
“The plants (there’s another one, not shown) just add to the overall feel of this painting. This painting has an airy environment (Literally and figuratively. I worked on it in the late mornings to catch light).”
Flores was inspired by a visit to the Norton Museum where she experienced paintings by Gauguin and Cézanne, which she wanted to replicate in her own way.
“I just wanted to be loose and I didn’t want to think so much---I wanted to lay down paint and kind of let it be. The cropped photograph is of me sleeping with a daffy duck plushy I still have. I’m asleep in this photo; it was taken by my dad I think---again a play on memory (past).”
Music is a prominent influence in her work, surfacing in the titles and content. The two comic pieces are based on two very different songs.
“Kung Fu Kenny” highlights Flores’ interaction with the nurses right before going under surgery. It transports the viewer to an unnerving moment of pre-surgery being eased up by nice nurses and anesthesiologists. She describes, “‘drank’ ‘faded’ ‘pass out’ was the last thing I heard while being on drugs.”
She finds admiration towards lyrical storytelling in music, which she wants to replicate in her comic series. She describes that “drawing these creates [a] balance of the work I want to do. When I need a break from painting, I draw.”
In the two comics, the viewer can see a juxtaposition of regulated or commercial vs casual use of drugs. With these, she wants to honor and express the good and bad feelings and how these events impacted her at the time.
In “Chazzy Belt,” she questions her actions. She describes that “my feelings have always been bigger than me. It was somewhat emotional for me to plan out this comic because it’s about last year. Just with everything: covid, injustices, death, miscommunication, loneliness, indifferences, heartache, we all suffered from it all. I personally was finding any moment to not be home, to not be present; I wanted to become numb to reality. I was doing nothing with my days. Any chance I got to get drunk and smoke was what I looked forward to sometimes. I’ve never admitted that until now—typing it all. So these lyrics, “Is this who you want me to be?” I’m asking myself that. As someone who is generally healthy and able to get myself out of such a rut, what was I doing? Compared to others who really have it rough, who need more support and attention---here I was choosing to have a bad time. Though that’s not completely true because your mind just takes you where you never thought you could go, I was not completely in control.”
The way I interpreted “Living someone else’s dream” is the guilt I felt being the daughter of Mexican parents who came to this country, kind of fucking up their hopes and dreams for me. The way I thought about it (still think about it) is that anyone in the world would want to be in my place (have an education, a home, a car, freedom, etc) and I’m out here fucking myself up. I can’t help but to hold onto an old-school mentality sometimes (I get it from my parents who are old and it’s hard to unlearn certain attitudes you’ve grown up with, I’m breaking patterns now though). It messes with who I want to be and who I’m expected to be because of where I come from. It’s the guilt we all carry, those who are products of immigration.”
Is there a particular reason that you are drawn to warmer colors?
Priscilla: I’m drawn to warmer colors now, I was not before. I used to work mainly with a limited and muted palette back in college. That was because I was sad for the most part (I’m realizing that now that time has passed)----I had moved out, I didn’t know anyone, I didn’t feel supported emotionally by those closest to me. I was also involved with someone who was emotionally draining. I was away from my parents who are the only immediate family I have here, everyone else lives in Mexico. I would often paint about my family to honor our history and culture. It was to fill some type of void; I often romanticized what I was painting.
It’s been 2 years since I’ve graduated and just this year I finally feel comfortable with who I am as a painter; I never was in school. I’m generally a person who doesn’t give a fuck but sometimes I play it safe for the sake of not standing out. After going through 2020 and being out for 4 months due to my injury----I no longer allow myself to feel bad for being who I am or who I’m working to be. I want to honor every part of me, even the messy and problematic parts (problematic: not choosing what’s best for me, having bad coping skills, etc). I’m actively working on myself as I paint. I want my painting to match my attitude just as how it matches my emotions. I’m drawn to warmer colors because I feel good now.
