"Blanca and their animal companion enjoy a small stream at Mission Creek Preserve, CA ."
Self portrait. March, 2021.

Words Attached (al final) - Foreward for the 2022 BFA Cohort at Portland State University

June 15, 2022 by B. Stacey Villalobos

Thank you for your interest in my writing! The text that follows is the essay I wrote for the BFA cohort’s foreword in this year’s catalog, EPILOGUE. As this was written for a publication, my only ask is that my words or photography are not reproduced without the consent of Portland State University & myself, gracias.

“Words attached (al final)”

by Blanca S. Villalobos

Can we sit with the unknown, un poco de misterio, while also holding peace in our hearts & minds? Much of our planet is unknown to us, with only 1.2 million species identified, much of which are listed as insects. Scientists estimate that there are at least 8.7 million species of animals and plantas that exist out of sight from humans. The ocean floor is deep, vast and mirrors the expanse of outer space. The scale of my life can be felt when I lay underneath a clear night sky in the Mojave Desert of California. It is both frightening and humbling to consider my presence in comparison with the Earth’s natural systems. These are moments which often lead to thoughts of death, even if only brief. My body becomes tense and my breath hastens, acknowledging the certainty of my own mortality. What happens next is usually some form of release: a deep exhale, a warm embrace from the body lying next to mine, a nudge from the nose of my animal companion or a cathartic crying spell. Death is found in every corner of our lives, with/in and with/out and is experienced more often than we realize.

My practice as an artist has died many times, as has my relationship to it. As a child I would copy & draw my favorite fictional characters as perfectly as possible; my renditions of Dragonball Z, Sailor Scouts, Final Fantasy 7 and Digimon are tucked away in boxes for future nostalgic dives. These illustrations continued until my late teens, when I realized I struggled with drawing the human form. Afraid that I wouldn’t be considered a real artist unless I could interpret my own portrait in a technical manner, I spent the next few years in my undergrad obsessively drawing strangers, friends, family members & lovers. During a critique with Tia Factor, she was surprised to see my display of three self portraits, as we were only asked to complete one. At this stage in my practice, I was still unhappy with my skills, which was why I had spent my entire spring break redrawing my portrait on 18×24 inch sheets of paper. In response to the three ‘Blancas,’ Tia shared something along the lines of, “Even though these vary in style, and are perhaps not realistic, they feel like different aspects of you... almost as if they were sisters.” Eventually, I was able to attain a level of satisfaction when it came to the human figure. I felt accomplished, proud and aware of the privilege my eyesight and hands offered through ongoing discipline.

Nine years after graduating from Portland State University, my sketchbooks remain relatively empty. The act of drawing still brings me joy but the potential to learn, share, and express knowledge through embodied happenings won me over. Performance has become my preferred medium of expression. Not only that but my ‘audience’ goes beyond the human species. The land, my ancestors and the flora & fauna of my immediate environment witness me while I sing, move, breath & rest. Feedback arrives in the form of a gentle wind across my sun kissed cheeks, or in the call of a Costa’s hummingbird. Time and time again performance & land based exercises help regulate my heart & mind when uncertainty becomes too large to hold in a world of climate change, pandemics & war. When asked what activity or exercise soothes their nervous system, the students in this catalog shared an assortment of actions. My hope for this cohort is that they make space to tend to these tiny (or not so tiny) deaths along their growth as artists.

Doodling - dancing - singing - hugging my friends - making pottery, going for a walk with my puppy - listening to water - closing my eyes - movement - stretching - breathing exercises - plant care - being in nature - drawing - playing video games - noticing shapes + colors - awareness of my surroundings - journaling - walking - cooking - weaving - making with my hands - sewing - reading - playing games

Epilogue

(noun): a section or speech at the end of a book or play that serves as a comment on or a conclusion to what has happened. Greek in its roots, epilogue can be interpreted to mean “words attached (at the end)”.

The following are oracle cards that were pulled for each student, as an invitation to reflect on the evolution of their art practice. Oracle cards do not carry the same weight as tarot, they are meant to affirm, question and/or encourage reflection into an aspect of someone’s life. The question I posed for this exercise was, “What is each student’s art practice asking them to consider?” Students are welcome to journal as part of their reflection. These cards are from Mary S. Evans’ Vessel oracle deck.

Danny Hanson - Grieve: It is okay if you are still grieving some aspect of your practice; perhaps there is a relationship(s) associated with your current body of work that brings feelings of grief? REmember that grief is non-linear, it's okay if you’re still ‘in it’.
Madeleine Beer - Change: Lean into it! Change is inevitable, the less you resist it the easier it will flow.
Sage Corradini - Forgive: I hope you can carve out time to forgive yourself, as much as you have done so for others through the magic that is your creativity.
Bobby Groff - It Gets Better: It does, over time and by showing up, it does get better.
Kaitlyn Lundelius - Structure: How can your practice benefit from a shift in its structure? This can look like a loose or firm structure that allows you to consider your current relationship to
your practice.
Johanna Houska - Defeat: Sometimes things don’t work out, that doesn’ equate to failure.
Trying and taking risks is brave, and your heart may require some extra love. Some aspect of your practice may pivot to something much more generative and aligned to how you want to show up in the world.
Hailey Hunt - Spirit: The connection you have with your practice goes beyond the physical realm; continue to nourish your muses, I think you know how.
Jessica Joner - Self Doubt: Gently and tenderly, try to remind your brain that you won’t fall for its tricks anymore. You are so capable, and your art practice is excited for the experiments you’ve been thinking about.
Tony Kane - Light: Literally, how does light manifest in your work? Figuratively, does it feel light... or is there some weight that can be shed?
Kylee Kubojiri - Self Care: You deserve rest, so much of it. The more you prioritize care the more your art practice will glow in response to it.

Nate Doogan - Romance: What’s your love language like, and how does it manifest in the body of your work? Don’t forget to treat yourself for all the work you’ve put in to build this relationship with art.
Keenan Mccune - Communication: Do you chat with your art? I wonder what it would say if you allow yourself to listen with your heart.
Renee Ollison - Childhood: The young version of yourself manifests itself throughout your current work. How does that feel? Is there any way you can hold space for young Renee in other parts of your life?
Luz Orellana - Make: You have so many hands that guide you in your creations! Take care of them, nourish them in ways that resonate to your preferred method of care.
Alisyn Smith - Begin: Don’t hesitate, just go for it! I know that feeling of flutter & excitement. It’ll settle and flow once you start.
Maya Sutriasa - Movement: What does movement mean to you? When we are given the opportunity to move freely, without any limitations, so many dreams can become embodied and passed down through generations of family and community.
Laura Swingen - Support: Don’t be afraid to ask for help, so many beings want to see you and your work shine. The help is there but can only be accessed if you speak it out loud.
Tenzin Tardiff - Endurance: Your work is strong, firm and soft at the same time. Just
remember that your practice can only build so much resiliency if you allow yourself to rest
from time to time.
Sims Vincent - Trust: I hope you believe in your work as much as it believes in you, trust that
you are held & supported for the next chapter in your practice.
Maggie Wang - Connect: You will make so many connections through your art practice in the
shape of friends, community, mentors and more. Try to make space for all the wonderful beings on their way to you.

Blanca observes a group of pictograph figures from the ancient Barrier Canyon culture while hiking the Black Dragon Wash in the Rafael Swell of Utah.

Frontier Fellow - 2nd Week

October 02, 2021 by B. Stacey Villalobos

It’s incredible that drawings from ancient groups and civilizations can be seen today on rock walls, boulders and overhangs alongside those of more recent Indigenous communities. The first petroglyphs I observed in Utah were about a mile into a leisurely hike through a wash within the Rafael Swell, a trailhead 30 minutes west of my residency in Green River.

Once I managed to recover from witnessing someone jump over the cliff edge of the canyon (they were doing an adventure sport known as base jumping) I came upon the faded red pictographs of what folks have attributed to the Barrier Canyon culture. I immediately started crying, seeing these drawn figures along with the calendar system just to the right of them affirmed so many things for me. One being that there are so many ways cultures express & embody knowledge. Another, was the playfulness that I personally took away from the rock art, something that can be hard for me to lean into when creating art.

Once observed, I spent some time reflecting on some of my notes from the one academic book I brought along as part of my research at my residency, Diana Taylor’s The Archive & The Repertoire: Performing Cultural Memory in the Americas. I have been absent on Instagram for the entirety of my road trip & residency as a way to be more grounded & present with my experience, so it was incredibly curious that the day I chose to break my absence all social media platforms owned and managed by Facebook decided to shut down for the majority of the day.

I instantly though of a recent passage in Taylor’s text, which reads as follows:

By taking performance seriously as a system of learning, storing and transmitting knowledge, performance studies allows us to expand what we understand by “knowledge.” This move, for starters, might prepare us to challenge the preponderance of writing in Western epistemologies. As I suggest in this study, writing has paradoxically come to stand in for and against embodiment. When the friars arrived in the New World in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, as I explore, they claimed that the Indigenous peoples’ past—and the “lives they lived”— had disappeared because they had no writing. Now, on the brink of a digital revolution that both utilizes and threatens to displace writing, the body again seems posed to disappear in a virtual space that eludes embodiment. Embodied expression has participated and will probably continue to participate in the transmission of social knowledge, memory, and identity pre- and postwriting.

From this text, I recalled moments in which my experience was dismissed or under-minded (mostly by white cis het men) due to my knowledge being rooted in tradition, storytelling, body memory and personal happenings. If my opinion or comment could not be traced back to an academic paper, it was then seen as ignorant or void of intellect. It is my belief that due to being a product of academia, I too forget how much knowledge can be experienced, created and therefore shared with others through embodiment.

Moon setting at sunrise, fall equinox. Crescent Junction, UT.

Frontier Fellow - 1st Week

September 25, 2021 by B. Stacey Villalobos

The sun is at its highest, yet the cool of fall is greatly appreciated among the stands of cottonwoods and showy milkweed. I’ve just wrapped up my first week as a Frontier Fellow with Epicenter, and each day I am blessed to see the sun rise and set upon the iconic Book Cliffs of Green River, Utah.

My studio is located in a dark basement with an absence of natural lighting, not the most ideal space for generative creativity but as BIPOC often do, I managed to create a sense of familiarity in an unknown place so that I can see myself reflected in it…and I also requested an air purifier. To be honest, I can’t stop feeling as though I am embodying some aspect of Carlos Fuentes’ Chac Mool while being here, perhaps the studio basement will flood post residency.

September 19th was also the full moon in pisces, my moon. So to imagine Chac Mool with me in Green River didn’t seem odd at all, I welcomed the Mayan deity of rain. Later I biked 17 miles on the town’s longest road (named Long Road) and settled upon a mud embankment against the river to sketch the cliffs and eat my leftover Melon Day’s burrito. As I drew shadows onto a blank page, I paused to look ahead and my eyes met the gaze of a coyote about 5 feet away from me. We stared at one another for a few moments until they slowly dipped below my sight and shot for the cottonwood trees south of me. I smiled and thanked the four legged relative for lifting my spirit and affirming my choice to spend 6 weeks away from the land and people that raised me.

I’ve made an intention to allow myself to ebb & flow like water for the rest of my residency, to honor the heavy feelings regarding my mother’s deteriorating health and what it means to create from a place of love rather than from anger. I do not have access to my therapist while outside of California and do not know any culturally specific mental health practitioners in this area of Utah therefore I am relying on what I do know- the tools I’ve been given and taught. So far this has looked like creating an altar in my studio space and bedroom, of keeping up my morning ritual of prayer/yoga/chakra toning and of not shying away from reaching out to friends when I am unwell and in need of long distance care.