akeylah wellingtonloves the smell of Pink. She thinks you probably do, too. Her tapestries and sculptures deal with humor as both a noun connoting comedy and a verb meaning to endure. Working with found media from the 2000s, her attention to technological and political developments is an attempt to make sense of her personal experience of carceral-related displacement, loss, girlhood, generational inheritances, and time.
small things to consider: unrequited platonic love letters, soft power
Baby book was stolen made a new one You said it never happened but our home was a whole anthill Pond Gallery
“The apartment in Miami is a three-bedroom-two-bathroom-first-floor unit
with beige carpet and a dark green front door with specks of dried
blood on it. The son’s room has wallpaper and the daughter’s room is
painted lavender and the mother’s room has a closet full of two-inch
leather belts. The son has a GameCube and a PlayStation 2. The daughter
has a container full of plastic dolls. It is hot, and on every wall one
can find at least one black sugar ant. The kitchen has Tupperware
containers stained orange from spaghetti, and there are drain moth
larvae in the kids’ bathroom sink. Look up the address on Google Images
now. Select the 2011 view. Would you believe me if I told you the
building used to be a different color? I never had a bedroom because I
was living there for a little while. Seven years is a little while.
Everyone, do you remember me? Could you remember me?”
for inquiries, please email the gyal at awellingtonart[@]gmail.com