For painter Jamie Diaz, the blank page is akin to a teleportation device. Twenty seven years into a life sentence, Diaz uses art to picture lives beyond the hardships of living as a trans woman within a Texas men’s prison. The air of liberation expressed through her paintings is unmistakable, leaping forth through colorful portraits of trans subjects dancing, strutting, loving each other out loud.
On September 15, members of the public were able to see Diaz’s visions of freedom up close when “Even Flowers Bleed,” a wide-ranging exhibition, opened at Chelsea’s Daniel Cooney Fine Art gallery. Ahead of the show, Them published a profile of the artist exploring her artistry as well as her decade-long relationship with her advocate and chosen nephew, Gabriel Joffe. Though delays in the prison mail system prevented the site from including much of Diaz’s own voice, Them is now able to share an exclusive peek into Diaz’s creative process in her own words.
Read Them’s full epistolary exchange with Jamie Diaz below.
Tell me a little about your process. When you make a painting, where are you working?
I do my art in my cell, which is about a 12 by 7 foot space. It is a typical prison cell with all of the standard requirements: a bunk, a toilet, a sink, a small window, and a small table and stool attached to the wall. I don’t do my art on the table. I do it on the concrete floor, in about a five by four foot space of the cell. I’m more comfortable working on the floor as it allows me more space. When I’m working I listen to programs on NPR Radio, or I listen to music — either classical, rock, or R&B. I think about a lot when I’m working, everything from my earliest childhood memory to the present.
How do you typically begin a piece?
I start by getting everything I am going to use and lay it all out on the floor in a particular order. I lay out my paper, then position my trays of paint, brushes, and a container of water. I also keep toilet tissue nearby to lift excess paint and water off the art paper and paint brush. I keep a damp towel nearby to wipe my hands when I need to.
When and how did the reality that you were trans enter your life?
In the beginning, I did not know what transness was, but from an early age I had a feminine nature. In 1973, at age 15, I started wearing female clothes and makeup and presenting as a woman. It wasn’t till years later that I learned of transitioning with hormones and surgery.
What was your reaction to hearing that you’d be having your own gallery show?
My first thought when I learned about the show with Daniel Cooney was that I hoped my work was good enough and that people would like it. And I felt grateful towards Dan for being interested in my work and for believing in my potential. What I’m feeling now is pretty much the same; I’m happy and appreciate this opportunity.
Of course, everyone wishes you were able to attend the opening. If you could, what visions would you have for the event?
If I was on the outside, I would probably wear a woman’s pants suit to the show. As for what kind of event I would want it to be, that would not matter. Afterward, I’d like to go anywhere — maybe a restaurant, maybe home.
“Even Flowers Bleed” is on-view at Daniel Cooney Fine Art through October 29.
This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.