Acrylic on stretched canvas
74.5 x 54 in (189.23 x 137.16 cm)
Inspired by two of my dear friends, Bridget and Malaika, this painting grew from a running joke about whether “the bus was still running,” a playful reference to RuPaul. What began as something unserious slowly became a shared memory, one that now feels symbolic.
In the painting, I am waiting at a bus stop with two Lockadoodles on our way to Lockoland (my imagined world). One of them looks directly at me and asks, “Is the bus still running?” His gaze feels urgent, as if he is desperate to get home. The question lingers: are we trying to return somewhere, or are we waiting for something that has already passed?
To my right, a tulip grows through concrete. This references W. H. Auden’s poem Time Will Say Nothing but I Told You So, particularly the line, “Perhaps the tulips want to grow.” Despite the concrete, the tulip persists. It becomes a symbol of resilience and quiet insistence. It also connects to Bridget and I collecting tulips around Annapolis, a memory grounded in place and friendship.
From the running joke with Malaika to gathering tulips with Bridget, the painting explores the relationship between memory and the present moment. It asks whether one ever truly returns home after being away for a long time, and if we do, whether home remains the same.
Ultimately, this painting reflects on the power of friendship, the persistence of memory, the inevitability of change, and the ways we continue growing together, even while apart.
Artwork is signed on bottom right corner.
Acrylic on stretched canvas
74.5 x 54 in (189.23 x 137.16 cm)
Inspired by two of my dear friends, Bridget and Malaika, this painting grew from a running joke about whether “the bus was still running,” a playful reference to RuPaul. What began as something unserious slowly became a shared memory, one that now feels symbolic.
In the painting, I am waiting at a bus stop with two Lockadoodles on our way to Lockoland (my imagined world). One of them looks directly at me and asks, “Is the bus still running?” His gaze feels urgent, as if he is desperate to get home. The question lingers: are we trying to return somewhere, or are we waiting for something that has already passed?
To my right, a tulip grows through concrete. This references W. H. Auden’s poem Time Will Say Nothing but I Told You So, particularly the line, “Perhaps the tulips want to grow.” Despite the concrete, the tulip persists. It becomes a symbol of resilience and quiet insistence. It also connects to Bridget and I collecting tulips around Annapolis, a memory grounded in place and friendship.
From the running joke with Malaika to gathering tulips with Bridget, the painting explores the relationship between memory and the present moment. It asks whether one ever truly returns home after being away for a long time, and if we do, whether home remains the same.
Ultimately, this painting reflects on the power of friendship, the persistence of memory, the inevitability of change, and the ways we continue growing together, even while apart.
Artwork is signed on bottom right corner.