In 2020 I remember having a conversation with Izzy about feeling creatively stuck. How no matter what, I can’t bring myself to make something. Whether it be a silly card to mail to a friend to say hello during trying times, or hand sewing a print I cut out from a stinky, ripped t-shirt onto a hoodie that fell victim to a pair of dull fabric scissors.
I remember her telling me to just pick up something, anything and just create and somewhere along the way it’ll come together. I was sitting on the floor staring at this blank canvas and she repeated herself, over and over.
This piece was a result of Izzy’s tough love. This canvas has hung on bedroom walls in Brooklyn, Florida and Long Island. I look at it every day and am reminded of that conversation and of Izzy. She always saw the best in people. I miss you, Izzy.
