Sabrina

Named Sabrina, I walked through the lobby and smiled. Surrounded by marble, crown moulding, and elaborate lighting fixtures, the building was a 1923 pre-war high rise situated at the corner of 98th Street and Broadway.

"Miss, you have boxes in the mailroom," the dapperly dressed doorman said as I walked in with arms full of luggage. As he opened the door, I spotted the contents of my childhood home packed to the ceiling.

My days on West Bay Shore Drive were over- the home I was raised in was on the market and I knew I'd never be able to return. It was a sinking feeling knowing my life would never be the same, but I was ready to create my own new beginning as I approached 30 years old.

Despite the rush of the city, reality eventually set in. I could leave my insecurities and my hometown, my fears and my pain, but I quickly learned they came along with me and my red DVF luggage. My time at the Sabrina ended summer of 2015 when I made my way to Astoria, Queens.

I returned to visit Sabrina in September 2020 shortly after creating my first abstract design tote bag. As I got onto the elevator, the sounds and smells were exactly as they were eight years before- the faint scent of summertime heat reminded me of the rush of that very first month.

Despite the rush of the city, reality eventually set in. I could leave my insecurities and my hometown, my fears and my pain, but I quickly learned they came along with me and my red DVF luggage. My time at the Sabrina ended summer of 2015 when I made my way to Astoria, Queens.

I returned to visit Sabrina in September 2020, shortly after creating my first abstract design tote bag. As I got onto the elevator, the sounds and smells were exactly as they were eight years before- the faint scent of summertime heat reminded me of the rush of that very first month.

In the midst of the pandemic, I passed a piece of artwork on the side of the road along with a bunch of other items for free. My friend and I hopped out of her car to take a look.

Although I didn’t know what I wanted to create with it at the time, I brought it home to paint. What started as a skyline quickly became an abstract piece full of metallics, resembling both the lobby of the Sabrina and a kaleidoscope of city scenes. Using copper, silver, white, black, and hints of rose, Sabrina matched my classic aesthetic with a touch of grit and glitter- fitting for my own life in New York.

I named my first painting after this beloved building, not just for the aesthetic, but for the feeling- there was something about the old building that felt shiny and new.

Sabrina may have been the first of many creations in 2020, but she's the foundation for my love of design. I fell in love with abstracts for the multifaceted nature of the layers and the stories they tell- and how our stories can help each other heal.

Even though memories fade, we hold onto them through sounds, smells, colors, and feelings- and as I painted each new design in my collection, I remembered moments, people, and places that were a part of my story.

Perhaps they’re a part of yours, too.