This triptych explores the collision of the periphery. Growing up in Chula Vista, California, Tijuana existed not as a foreign place, separated by a national border, but as a neighboring town. However, the dehumanization of immigrants was smothering and highly visible. On southern California freeways the “Caution” sign with a family running (referenced in this piece) was so commonplace that I became desensitized to seeing it. Once I started deconstructing the politics of transportation and our border, I recalled the sign and was horrified at its ubiquity.

This piece was a grand experiment, focused on the crassness of our vehicular lives. Attempting to cross a street as a pedestrian and exist in spaces that are designed for large, multi-ton boxes whose inhabitants often seem to be texting or focused on the larger risk posed to them (other cars) feels fraught. Encountering tragic and horrifying roadkill, seeing a deer and reconciling with the terror you experience is a common practice while driving and something so ordinary it’s hardly discussed. All of these realities are explored in three panels that allows the the viewer to feel disoriented, nauseous and ill at ease.