Throughout his extensive interviews, Samora poses one question to many of his interviewees-
"If You could design a space with everything you need for your continuous healing processes, what would it look like, what would it sound like, and what would it contain?"
We posed a similar question to student artists
These pieces are their responses:
Erratic, Ecstatic, Unruly Behavior, 2023. Acrylic and Spray paint.
This piece addresses the way in which the dangerous perspectives and close-mindedness from older generations affects the youth. Expectations of masculinity and a suppression of expression that come in the form of judgement. Daeton wanted to make a body of work that centers the rejection of judgement and promotes the freedom of expression, And perhaps the freedom within masculinity for people of color.
Daeton Oclaray (he/him)
3rd year Art major at UCLA
Daeton is from Hawaii and Seattle but currently based in Los Angeles and contextualizes His work through his identity and experience as a half black half filipino individual. DaEton also often found that masculinity and religion, specifically its effect on the marginalized youth, are a part of the conversation.
Nuestra América, 2022. Acrylics over white paper.
"As an immigrant from rural Mexico, art became not only my healing communication tool to grief loss and share hopes that crossed cultural, physical, and language borders, but that also allowed me to recreate home whenever I felt nostalgic. “Nuestra America” (English, “Our America”) was born having as a background the struggle that is lived in the arid mountains of El Llano, my homeland, where I left my heart. Now, I return carrying solidarity from siblings from other territories in Latin America whose struggles are now also my own. This painting feels like intensity, with the upside down map of Latin America engraved in the heart, reimagining our land going first against the oppressive and racist hierarchy illustrated on mainstream maps. The painting feels like hope, as flowers that represent the various areas of Latin America, bloom from inside my heart. This painting sounds to the wind blowing in between the branches of the mesquite trees, to the festivities of villages in between the cliffs, to the ocasional whistling from the farmers. My art piece contains the paint from acrylics and paper, some of the most accessible tools in my constant migration, moving from my hometown to where promises of goals for a better life reside on. This is how my healing from forced migration looks, demanding visibility to the only home I have where the living, the ancestors, and the mountains claim me as their own, and though we live through the systematic oppression of colonization and imperialism that is unfortunately lived in countless of other communities, we now know we are not alone and we are creating transnational movements—because “we rather die standing than living our knees”."
Tequila, 2023. Acrylic on white cardboard.
Between the gentrification of tequila, global warming and pesticides, water disputes and modern sl*very by agro-industrias and monocultures, this painting was born.
My family and I have grown up among agave for generation. I wanted to edit the tags from “Celebrity tequila” such as the Kardashian’s and paint the stories by farm workers.
Just like many people, I am worried about the future of these landscapes, of what we consume, and who are truly taking economic advantage of our work. U.S benefits from the exploitation, disappearances, and assassination of historically oppressed communities within the U.S. and abroad.
Dulce MaríA LÓPEz (she/her)
First year masters in Art at UCLA
Dulce María López is a Mexican rural immigrant artivist, a UC Berkeley alumni, and a current UCLA grad student. Through her art, she develops political and social statements, connecting back to the issues of forced migration and U.S. imperialism that she has faced. Dulce uses acrylics, murals, guerrilla art techniques, and media to bring visibility to transnational social issues, represent (her)story and identity, and mobilize people. Dulce has showcased her artwork and collaborated in México, the United States, and Central América. She aspires to continue mobilizing through arts and build platforms to make political art a sustainable and safe practice for historically oppressed communities.
Recuerdo, 2023. Acrylic and oil on canvas.
"I aim to depict how decolonizing and deconstructing deeply rooted physical and psychological constructs of borders, gender, and sexuality would and can create a revolutionary way of living."
Isa Valenzuela (they/them)
first year art major at UCLA
Isa Valenzuela is a Chicano artist from San Diego currently attending UCLA as an undergraduate student majoring in Art and Chicano Studies and minoring in Art Education. They primarily work in painting, sculpture, digital art, and photography. Valenzuela incorporates surrealism and magical realism to create an idea of duality and crossing between ways of living. They specifically explore the intersectionality and corporeality of queer and transgender Chicanos and Latinos living between the U.S and Mexico border, our history in the land, and de-colonial theory. In the future, they are interested in becoming an arts educator and incorporating arts education through community engagement into their practice.
A Sunday Afternoon in Central Park: the only orange we wanna wear, 2024. Oil on canvas.
"As someone who has felt more comfortable around guys for most of my life (probably due to their unapologetic confidence to be themselves and lack of worry about looking stupid allowing me to do the same) I wanted to capture what I see in them and the healing I get from watching them be themselves.
Honoring Georges Seurat’s A Sunday Afternoon on La Grande Jatte (depicting modern life from various walks of life as they relax in the park), my main goal was to portray black boy joy in an almost ‘too perfect’ manner. The piece was composed as a more complex realization of childhood drawings, which are often made of a sunny day outside, a sun in the corner, and a bunch of figures of the child’s loved ones. In this realization, the sun appears to be lit for them, the sky is blue, and the grass is green and fluffy—every moment experienced by the people within is pure and healing.
This is one of those days that you never want to end, but for them it did. Brutally.
This is one of those days that you never want to end, but for them it did. Brutally.
The orange clothing represents incarceration and that anticipated fate for the black man to be either dead or in jail. The 5 young men depicted represent those known publicly as the Central Park 5. Korey Wise, Yusef Salam, Antron McCray, Raymond Santana, and Kevin Richardson were all young men of color who were 16 and under when they were framed by the police for the rape of a white woman jogging in Central Park.
They missed prom, they didn’t get to graduate, and after they came out as grown men, their experience continued through death threats and job hardships.
Having a 10 month old son, the creation of this piece was very emotional because of the ridiculous inevitability in this society of someone judging him based on his skin color. I want them to see what I see.
How could you not love them?"
Having a 10 month old son, the creation of this piece was very emotional because of the ridiculous inevitability in this society of someone judging him based on his skin color. I want them to see what I see.
How could you not love them?"
Maia Faith Hadaway (she/her)
4th year Art major at UCLA
Maia (pronounced my-ee-uh) means midwife, nurse, or mother and my parents say I was appropriately named. As a nurturer I want people around me to feel a sense of belonging, so in my art I give space to those who are constantly being told they don’t belong and tell their stories to push the spirit of compassion and empathy to the masses.
I grew up in a Caribbean household in the Chicagoland area. My mom is from Jamaica and my dad from St. Vincent. With this mix of cultures, I learned the importance of having an open mind early on. I am a strong advocate for second chances and refraining from prejudice (mindset reinforced by Bryan Stevenson's "Just Mercy" and Colossians 3:13-14). As a new mother, I have an increasingly pressing drive to contribute to an environment where my son too feels accepted and accepts others regardless of differences.
I grew up in a Caribbean household in the Chicagoland area. My mom is from Jamaica and my dad from St. Vincent. With this mix of cultures, I learned the importance of having an open mind early on. I am a strong advocate for second chances and refraining from prejudice (mindset reinforced by Bryan Stevenson's "Just Mercy" and Colossians 3:13-14). As a new mother, I have an increasingly pressing drive to contribute to an environment where my son too feels accepted and accepts others regardless of differences.
Untitled vessel, 2023. Ceramic, acrylic paint.
"In thinking about healing spaces and registers of love and grief, I thought about the saying "to be loved, is to be changed". Untitled vessel is a piece that reflects on scarification and how the body registers, transforms, and reveals memories as physical and emotional remnants. Scarification is described as a form of permanent body modification that involves cutting or burning a pattern or design onto the skin. In this context, Untitled vessel serves as both skin and a temporary extension of the artist’s own physical being, with the front of the figure having a heart-like gate engraved and the back of the figure having corresponding angel wings and gate design. The significance lies not only in the artwork itself, but in the interaction between Untitled vessel and the audience. The work itself forces you to go down to the floor and connect with it, as if the arm of the piece is reaching out to you in an embrace, sharing in comfort and love. Overall, when working in clay, I put my heart, tears, and thoughts into it as working in clay is a meditative, kinesthetic, and laborious practice for me, especially when creating objects from memory. This piece serves as a physical reminder of the continuous evolution of healing practices and embracing change."
Marbella Hernández Trujillo (she/her)
Marbella “Bella” Hernández Trujillo (b. 2000) is a Latinx born and raised artist and teaching artist residing in South Central Los Angeles. After high school, she attended El Camino College in 2020 and received her A.A in General Studies with an emphasis in Fine & Applied Arts. She graduated from the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA), receiving a B.A in Art and minor in Visual and Performing Arts Education in 2023. Her work has been exhibited at New Wight Gallery, UCLA Little Gallery, South Gate Art Gallery, and Fowler Museum Terrace.
Growing up in South Central Los Angeles, Trujillo has always been curious with bold Black and Brown arts activism, religious iconography, and graffiti art. Since the age of six, she has always been enamored and interested in drawing her neighborhood, surroundings, and the people in her community. Being of Mexican and Salvadoran heritage, she has also been interested in highlighting her culture within her work, particularly through mediums like painting, drawing and ceramics. She is interested in themes of identity, social emotional aspects of a community, rendering archival photographs, interpersonal care, queerness, and kitsch 90s to early 2000s Latinx iconography.
Growing up in South Central Los Angeles, Trujillo has always been curious with bold Black and Brown arts activism, religious iconography, and graffiti art. Since the age of six, she has always been enamored and interested in drawing her neighborhood, surroundings, and the people in her community. Being of Mexican and Salvadoran heritage, she has also been interested in highlighting her culture within her work, particularly through mediums like painting, drawing and ceramics. She is interested in themes of identity, social emotional aspects of a community, rendering archival photographs, interpersonal care, queerness, and kitsch 90s to early 2000s Latinx iconography.
It Comes in Waves, 2022. Acrylic on Canvas.
It Comes in Waves captures the emotions of processing trauma and overcoming the pain that comes with it. I believe healing comes when one faces their fears and accepts the truth of the events that unfold. By fully accepting and allowing ourselves to feel that pain we learn to let go.
Under Pressure, 2023. Stoney White, Black oxide, red pigment, and watercolor.
Under Pressure captures the emotional and psychological toll of burnout. Drawing from personal experiences and observations, I depict the exhaustion, breakage, and sorrow that often accompany this state of being. My art making practice is a method of healing, and I seek to create a space for reflection and healing. This was found for me in the playful composition of my demons. Visualizing my demons in an unserious manner somehow comforts me. This piece is a moment for me to validate my fatigue and works as a reminder for me to emphasize the importance of self-care and balance in our fast-paced world. Overall, the process of this work has deeply encouraged me to hang in there, remember the fun in the practice, and to get back up again.
Stephanie Ko (she/her)
Art Major at UCLA
Your Clothes That I Wear, 2023. Photography prints.
"In this body of work I talk about themes of grief/loss, love, and human attachments/connectedness. For this project I wanted to focus on the preservation of precious moments after loss, and the memories that our loved ones leave behind. More importantly, the special items or objects that help us stay connected to them. I wanted me, my mom, and my little brother to recreate family photos before and after my father passed away. There are 8 pieces total and they mirror each other. I bought and cut a shirt and pants that resembled the same ones my dad had, and sewed it to raw canvas that I photo transferred the prints on. In the photos where I drew my father in, I dressed up as him, and wore similar or the same clothes he had on in the original photos. My father passed away almost two years ago, and was one of the most important people in my life. Losing my father not only changed my perspective on mortality and death, but my experiences with grief. Grief is such a complex emotion that never truly leaves you nor do I feel you fully accept, but over time you learn to live with it. It’s never easy thinking about how my dad is no longer here with me, and there are times where it's more difficult to remember, but one of the things that makes me feel closer to him are his clothes. Therefore, I wanted to frame these works as memories and recreations that can’t be altered. Before my father passed, I would occasionally wear his clothes. But after he passed, I started wearing his clothes a lot more. Moreover, being a queer woman who likes wearing men’s clothes, my father’s clothes played a big part in my comfortability and confidence in my gender expression. More importantly, they're little pieces of him that I carry with me everywhere I go."
Jade Hollingsworth (she/they)
4th year Art major at UCLA
Within Jade's work, they talk about their personal experiences with sexual identity, gender expression, and grief/loss. Moreover, how these experiences have affected Jade from childhood to adulthood. Making work from personal experiences is important to them because through THEM JADE IS able to express themselves in a creative way, and tell their stories to others. And through telling these stories, Jade is validating and healing those feelings, and they hope that others will be able to experience healing from it too.
Love and Skate, 2024. oil pastel.
"Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to get out of life. As a young person there are so many distractions easily available that can blur the lines of what is a genuine or inGENUINE experience. Some of these distractions can be material while others take the form of substances. The focus of this painting was capturing genuine human connection as a distraction for whatever one may be going through in life. The reference photo for this composition was taken directly in Westwood, Los Angeles in front of my apartment building. One day I was watching two people who lived on the street, sitting on a bench and talking to each other. I had so many questions. How long did these two know each other? What were they talking about? How would this interaction end? What did they feel towards one another? After chatting for at least an hour, both individuals walked away together–to a location unknown. I never saw them again, but I still wonder about what became of their relationship. However, what I do know is that for a moment these two people found something in one another. While the absolute nature of this can be debated, I prefer to see it as healing. Healing from the trials of yesterday and today, and finding hope in another person; just for a second. This fleeting period of healing is what I captured in my painting, and is something I think that Samora PinderHughes is also exploring in the Healing Project."
Zoë Solís (she/her)
4th year Art History Major at UCLA
Zoë Solís is a fourth-year undergraduate student at the University of California Los Angeles. She studies art history and is seeking a professional job in the art industry after she graduates. Zoë has never had any formal art training and considers herself completely self taught. While over the years her preferred mediums have changed, these days she uses mostly oil pastels. This creative choice is a recent one which she made after finding out her ability to make art at school was limited. While living in Los Angeles, she’s developed a style of documenting what she sees. Whether it’s nature, lovers at the library, or street life–she loves capturing it all. This is her favorite line of work that she's ever worked on during the 22 years she’s been an artist. She credits this to the raw visual aesthetic the paintings hold and how “in-the-moment” she feels when making them. But no matter what she’s working on, Zoë wants it to be something people can connect with; something that feels like home.
You don't have to forget the past, but you must play your tune once more, 2024. Photography.
A musician struggles to play his guitar because of him suppressing his traumatic past and carrying the burden and shame that comes with it. The teddy bear is a representation of the past that will never leave his side no matter how hard he ignores it. Through reflection, the musician realizes that the past protects his present self as it allows him to build an illuminating future. He learns to embrace the past and heal his inner child as he remembers to how to play his soul once again.
Julian Hamilton (he/him)
