The surrealists called it "cadavre exquis"—a collaborative artistic game where multiple artists would create a work together without seeing each other’s contributions until the piece was complete. Each participant would draw or write on a section of paper, fold it to conceal their part, and pass it along, leaving only a hint for the next creator to continue. The result was a composition that was unexpected, fragmented, yet strangely cohesive—a discovery of meaning in chance and connection. It was playful and profound, a way to explore the subconscious and the power of collective creation.

In my reimagining of Exquisite Corpse, I create each new fragment with only a few guiding lines from the previous section, like loose threads connecting the work. Beyond those marks, I don’t look back at the rest of the painting as I work. Instead, I follow the flow of the moment, letting memory, intuition, and improvisation shape each section. There’s no rigid plan—each piece reveals itself as I paint, unfolding spontaneously yet tethered by the echoes of what came before. It’s a practice of defragmenting and building a meditative structure to pour chaos into—a method of trusting the process and embracing the unexpected within 3 x ∞ grid.

For my final BFA show, I created a project that symbolized both destruction and reconstruction. I took my undergraduate study paintings—pieces that represented countless hours of exploration and growth—and cut them into small squares. Then, I reassembled them into a massive quilt, stitching fragments of each work together into a unified tapestry. It was a statement about how, no matter how skilled I became, I often felt confined by external perceptions of my identity and socioeconomic status. The quilt was an act of defiance and resilience—a way to channel anger over perceived limitations and reclaim ownership of my art by transforming it into something entirely new.

Now, with Exquisite Corpse, I’m working in a digital space to do the inverse. Instead of cutting apart something whole, I’m building an infinite sequence of interconnected squares. Where the quilt project reconstructed from fragments, Exquisite Corpse constructs from moments, layering memory and spontaneity into something continuous and unbroken. What was once an act of destruction and reinvention has evolved into a meditative process of creation, using the digital medium itself—Rodeo and the blockchain—as a canvas that adds another temporal and connectivity level.

Rodeo.club becomes more than just a platform—it’s the foundation for a living artwork. Unlike traditional art spaces with fixed timelines and endings, this project unfolds without the need for rigid deadlines or promises of daily output. Instead, it exists in a state of creative flux, growing and evolving as I do. I add to it when I can, when inspiration strikes, or when the moment demands it. But one thing remains constant: I won’t stop contributing to it until either I'm unable to or the platform itself disappears. This makes Exquisite Corpse as much about permanence as it is about impermanence—art tied to the unpredictable life cycle of a tech startup, yet anchored in the blockchain's promise of long-term preservation. It’s a reflection of both control and surrender, where I embrace the uncertainty of a digital space while continuing to create something infinite and meaningful within it.

The way collectors interact with Exquisite Corpse adds another layer to the work itself. Some collectors attempt to gather each piece in order, while others pick up fragments at random or only claim a few along the way. This fragmented approach mirrors how artists are often consumed—bits and pieces of their work taken, interpreted, and displayed without regard to the whole. The only place to see the entire painting as I it unfolds and I intended is on my profile, where the individual sections align into a continuous visual story. Unless someone creates a dedicated wallet solely for this series, they can never fully recreate that continuity elsewhere. This interaction highlights the tension between the artist's vision and the ways art is experienced in a decentralized, digital space—where collectors shape their own stories through the pieces they choose to hold and which pieces are valued more than others.

Exquisite Corpse isn’t just about how collectors interact with the work—it’s also a reflection of what it means to be an artist in the age of social media. Platforms invite us to share fragments of ourselves—snapshots of creativity, vulnerability, and identity—often stripped of their context and consumed in isolation. Just as collectors may only gather pieces of my painting, audiences on social media often only see curated moments rather than the full picture. Yet, the full picture exists somewhere, even if it’s rarely viewed in its entirety. This project embraces that reality rather than resists it, turning the act of "being seen in pieces" into something intentional and beautiful. By building an artwork that can only be fully experienced by returning to the source, I’m reclaiming how my narrative is presented—reminding viewers that the fragments aren’t the whole, but they’re part of something larger and ongoing.

This project also raises questions about scarcity and abundance—core tensions in the art world and beyond. Traditional notions of value often rely on limitation: the fewer pieces that exist, the more valuable they become. But with Exquisite Corpse, what does value mean? Each piece is minted for just $0.30—a price that challenges typical assumptions about exclusivity and worth. By making the work accessible in cost, limited in time each block is available, yet infinite in scope, I’m asking where does the value actually come from? As I continue adding to the painting, expanding its complexity and story, does it become more valuable because it tells a larger, richer story? Or does its infinite nature defy the very concept of monetary value altogether making it only worth pennies forever? By building something that grows rather than ends, I’m pushing against the expectation that art must be finite and high priced to be impactful over time. Instead, this work suggests that perhaps abundance—the act of continuing, of layering meaning over time—can be its own form of value. After all, nothing is guaranteed to last forever, no matter how expansive or how few.

In the end, Exquisite Corpse isn’t just about the act of creation—it’s about stumbling through discovery, making sense of fragments, and hoping it all adds up to something meaningful. Each new piece is its own small leap of faith, a reminder that I don’t always know where I’m headed, but I keep going anyway. And in that way, this project isn’t just mine—it grows alongside everyone who watches it unfold, whether they collect a piece or simply pass through. Maybe it will never feel "finished" or "whole," and maybe that’s the point. Whether you see the chaos or the continuity, it’s a story that reminds me—and hopefully others—that sometimes art isn’t about answers. It’s about the beauty in still trying to piece things together, even when you don’t have the full picture.

Find the complete collection here:

@empresstrash on Rodeo

Playfully Controversial | Art in All The Fancy Places | Destigmatize | #cc0 | Artist Ambassador on gamma.io rc.xyz/empresstrash beacons.ai/empresstrash

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