Jack Usry always seemed to view life through the lens of his camera, and would always turn the most ordinary moments of our friendship into a works of art. He captured things that took his breath away, which usually included moments with friends and family that were important enough to treasure them forever. Whenever I was a subject in his photos, I always felt tremendously valued and appreciated. Though I am admittedly not very good at taking photos and any success I have is mostly accidental, photography over the last several months has become an important part of how I process the world around me.

Jack's influence in my life undoubtedly changed me. I learned to love Bob Dylan and stand up comedy, and how to make the best spicy black bean and egg sandwiches. I learned how to make friends with the most unlikely people and what it means to live every day to the fullest without any care for what other people think about me. I still walk barefoot to make sure my calluses are better than everyone else's, use masking tape for everything, and overeat every time I go to Inoko.

I still have so much to learn from Jack about taking time to rest and appreciate the places and people around me. I take photos in his memory because it helps me feel closer to him, and hopefully using a camera to walk in his footsteps will help me begin to see the world as he did.

Each morning this week after waking up, I have gone for a run, made a cup of coffee, and nestled into my oversized green pillow on the floor. I then pull out my paint and brushes, and I make as much progress on this series of amorphous, pale green, female figures as I can before I leave to go to class.

I would like to begin by saying that I did not want to do these paintings at all. While I was in the middle of another assignment, my professor stopped me to tell me that he had another, more specific assignment in mind for me. I was irritated to say the least. This new assignment not only required a much greater quantity of work, but also negated all of the work I had already put into my first project.

"I'm going to require sixteen drawings or paintings. They should be sixteen by twenty inches on average, and I think that these should include interior and exterior elements. Eight could have figures, and eight or more can be without figures if you choose."

Begrudgingly, I set aside the project I was halfway finished with, and I began my new assignment.

Because I love working with the figure, I decided to include the figure in every painting. In my studies, I included line work and facial features that made my monstrous figures more human. I was thinking about the concept of the male gaze in an intimate bedroom setting at night, indicated by the scenery outside. As I kept working, I became increasingly interested in the idea of using silhouette to portray human form. If i didn't include any features or genitalia, I wondered how people would perceive the forms.

Kara Walker uses silhouettes in her art and animations as a way to talk about racial issues. By giving her figures features that are stereotypically associated with the African American race, she makes viewers to walk confidently into a trap that forces them to acknowledge their biases. In a similar way, I hope that these figures will force viewers to confront their biases towards women or the human race as a whole. What defines a woman? If these paintings are uncomfortable to look at, why? Does the lack of genitalia make the figures seem less human? How are people simplified through the eyes of others, even those who know them intimately?

In spite of my initial frustrations surrounding this project, I have been challenged by the questions it has forced me to confront and pleased with the artistic results and intellectual stimulation it has brought about.