Skip to primary navigation
Skip to main content
Skip to footer

Bree Stallings Artwork

Home
About
- Blog
Artwork
Teaching & Curriculum
Press & Media
CV/Resume
Where I’m From
To Be Seen And Celebrated

Artwork

Public Art & Mural Work
Installations
Community Projects
In-Studio Work

Footer

breequixote

Bree Stallings, professional #artist, #muralist and #illustrator. Teacher and student of life.
🌟
Commissions/acquisitions:
info@breestallings.com

Instagram post 2227976197476975277_256323244

Rounding home base on this massive project. So proud of these portraits, I’ve fallen in love with them. 💪🏻

Instagram post 2226512260541960457_256323244

Painted my grandmother so big, I hope she can see herself from Heaven. 🙏 👼 .
.
@dendsley317 on the purple sky assist. 🖌

Instagram post 2223681805505304997_256323244

I was on @permissiontobepodcast last night, and I was toying out the articulation around an idea I had that the academia and hyper-languaged system of the Arts (capital A) is yet another way that white supremacy tries to commoditize and profit off of what’s innately humane and Divine: the urge to create and speak to each other in a way that connects us beyond social norms.

That idea has been swirling in my head as I painted today. And amidst all the orders, I’ve doled myself 10 pieces of just “inspiration” people to do for myself and if they sell, they sell.

This is James Baldwin’s eye and he opened my eyes in college when I read Notes On A Native Son and then again when a few years ago, a student of mine, loaned me Go Tell It On The Mountain.

He’s the link between race, faith, Spirit and self. If you’re wanting to be “woke-literate”, these are musts for your reading lists. It comforts me to be finding these visages of God in the brilliant minds I admire as I grow older. It’s a once-comfortable now scary place that I want to peek around again in. “She thought of that far-off day when John had come into the world--that moment, the beginning of her life and death. Down she had gone that day, alone, a heaviness intolerable at her waist, a secret in her loins, down into the darkness, weeping and groaning and cursing God. How long she had bled, and sweated, and cried, no language on earth could tell--how long she had crawled through darkness she would never, never know. There, her beginning, and she fought through darkness still; toward that moment when she would make her peace with God, when she would hear Him speak, and He would wipe all tears from her eyes; as, in that other darkness, after eternity, she had heard John cry.” Goddamn. Praise God, that’s some good writing.
www.tobeseenandcelebrated.com

Instagram post 2222609650646730743_256323244

The future stares right back at you.

Follow on Instagram

Newsletter

First Name

Last Name

Email address:

Leave this field empty if you're human:

Let’s Get Social!

Copyright © 2020 · Bree Stallings