Information:
Painted in 2023, later assigned Design index number 007 for the studio records, titled the Liberty Mandala.
Photoshop and Wacom Cintiq/Stylus
Artist Statement
The Liberty Mandala explores radical autonomy and civic endurance through an intentional disruption of sacred geometry. Moving past decorative circular balance, the composition uses asymmetrical breaks and multiple radiating vector arcs to channel the raw energy of New York Harbor, treating Lady Liberty not as a passive political monument, but as a living archetype of illumination.
The color story pairs verdigris greens and oxidized copper tones with intense amber, saffron, and gold, centering the torch flame as a source of uncompromising light. The visual language merges two personal reference points: encountering Liberty venerated as an icon in a feminist gathering space in the Woodstock woods, and my early collegiate immersion in the Promethean mythos of bearing fire for human liberation and illumination.
Originally created in response to the profound isolation of New York City in the spring of 2020, the piece strips away nationalistic sentimentality. Finished in 2023, It serves as a focused meditation object celebrating the courage to claim one’s own path, honor collective resilience, and keep the beacon lit in the dark.
Studio Notes for the Catalog
In the spring of 2020, New York City turned into a ghost town.
The normal roar of the streets collapsed into a heavy, unbroken silence, interrupted only by the relentless wail of ambulance sirens moving back and forth to the hospitals at all hours of the day and night. The only collective social contact we had came at seven each evening, when we leaned out of our windows and onto fire escapes to bang pots and cheer for the shift change of healthcare workers.
During those exact weeks, friends living elsewhere accused me of participating in a staged hoax, screaming that public health warnings were a plot to steal their freedom. Living at the epicenter of a real crisis while watching people politicize the very idea of liberty made something harden in me. I had lived and worked here through September 11th. I remembered how quickly the country claimed New York as its own when we were wounded, and I watched that brief affection fade, only to curdle back into resentment and cultural hostility the moment we were in trouble again.
That anger turned into fierce, enduring pride. I realized that the freedom people shout about from a distance is often just an excuse for selfishness, while real liberty requires the stamina to stand together under pressure.
The Liberty Mandala became my love letter to New York. I pulled from memories of a feminist retreat in Woodstock, where I had first seen Lady Liberty honored on an altar as a sacred presence, and I merged her image with the Promethean vow I took in college: the Titan who bears fire for humanity regardless of the personal cost of serving Truth.
In the artwork, I deliberately broke the symmetrical rings with cutting angular paths and high-contrast light shafts. Copper patina greens collide with the blazing cadmium yellow and amber of the torch. Lady Liberty stands at the gate, keeping vigil over the harbor through every storm, reminding us that genuine liberty is not given by permission. It is forged by the choices we are brave enough to make when everything goes quiet.