In the warm glow of the ocean’s heavenly shine, we speak in tongues in an economic language we cannot grasp. The dark suns spread grapes over our bodies and we look at the organs within. Our lives collapse due to high interest rates, not being eligible for a loan, and the ticker tape of Wall St. sliding downhill. We are angry at ourselves and at our government for being dysfunctional. We balance our check books every week, keeping track of meager earnings while Trump wants billions of dollars to separate us from our Mexican friends. Immigrants have always been a part of the working class economy. We are not only losing our tongues and organs, we are losing the immigrants who help our factories stay financially solvent. We have lost our ability to walk in the light of the golden suns and encapsulate the positive light within.

13”(h) x 20” (w), gouache on paper on Dibond 2018.
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