A bandana in a back pocket is both a queer symbol and also a nostalgic visual for cowboy culture in Texas. My mom (not my gran) always tied one to a suitcase whenever we traveled. The work is elaborating on that memory into a moment that fuses my memory, Texan culture, and symbol of the bandana together.

—

In April 2021 amid the thawing of the pandemic, I ventured to friends to isolate at Smith Island- rapidly disappearing island and community in the Chesapeake Bay. It is sinking through a combination of climate change and economic collage and will perhaps be depopulated by 2030. That said, it was a wonderous rewilded place with abandoned theme parks, beautiful birds, and strange characters still living amid the mud and debris.

I snapped a photograph of a friend's kid amid this wonderous post-apocalyptic world. It felt like an allegory for the pandemic itself and maybe a warning of our collective futures- where we are all trapped in all manner of sinking ships outside our control. But maybe there is wonder and beauty and re-wilding amid the breakdown.

Note: Christine Ryan (Jet Set Neon) as neon fabricator.

Adam Chamy (b. Fort Worth, 1987) practice spans mixed media painting, writing, and architecture - always in service of his unique otherworldly, intersectional voice. Chamy’s work has exhibited at the Philips Collection, United Nations East Gallery, Museo del Brigantaggio (Italy), and toured nationally with UNRWA USA and photojournalist Motaz Azaiza. His solo exhibition "Of Refuge, Of Home "– focused on narratives from his Palestinian-Texan heritage - was featured by WAMU/NPR and The Washington Post's Express. He received the 2023 Half-Light Press Short Story Prize for The Two Halves House, a magical-realist parable exploring national borders and family myth-making. As an architect with Cunningham Quill, Chamy has contributed to multiple AIA award-winning projects, including the adaptive reuse of the historic St. Elizabeths asylum into affordable housing.

@adamchamy