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© 2025 Carah Jo | All rights reserved.

Excerpt from Garden: On Knowing

September 17, 2025

“‘Garden’ is a painting I made in 2025 as part of a body of work titled ‘Fruit, Garden & Altar’. ‘Fruit, Garden & Altar’, explores connections between nature, society, and self while emphasizing the beauty and power found in their integration. Through acrylic painting, recycled paper collages, mixed media graphite drawings, and creative writing, the works explore the interconnectedness of all things—seeking unity in the moments that make up our everyday lives. This body of work positions liberation as enlightenment through social and environmental awareness.”


This one is about knowing. Sharing what we know. Understanding that knowing is the prerequisite of doing. To do something well and with intention, is to know what you are doing. I used to think I knew a lot, or that knowing came easy. Growing up I was made to believe I was a great vessel, capable of having knowledge deposited into me, reciting the deposits, using its logic and applying it wherever necessary. It was posited as a great ability, and I was a smart, gifted child. Now I, the vessel, feel more like an abyss that is unable to be filled. The abyss seemed to have gotten more empty as I tried to fill it. I came to realize that what I knew was never enough—for satisfaction, necessities for survival, fulfillment, or completion—until I acknowledged the vessel itself as a construct that did not serve me. It symbolized the containing of something that could not be held or contained. I realized that that something actually touches and affects everything. No longer a vessel, l became a medium with the understanding that knowledge passes through me by me expressing it. Symbols of containment and impermeability became invalid. To me, living is the expression of some form of knowledge. It cannot be contained because it cannot be unexpressed. And through these observations, realizations and various life experiences, it seems to me that unexpressed knowledge takes the form of death and oppression. 


All the different types of knowledge and ways to access it—but only some are valid, by a select few’s standards, and to everyone’s detriment. The barriers to knowledge I have observed are unnecessary, detrimental social constructs. Inaccessible institutions, exorbitant costs of entry, educational redlining, a carceral public education system, structures of power based on people’s lack of access to knowledge, and what knowledge can buy you a living, all coincide with how we have constructed society; on the foundation of theft and violence. In creating these barriers and rigid definitions to contain the vast concept of human knowledge, the depth of our human experience is what was taken and it was done violently, with subsequent violent consequences. Chattel slavery, poverty, wage slavery, incarceration, fascist and tyrannical governments, and environmental collapse. With the structural legitimacy of the oppressive systems we are subjected to, we have had no choice but to repeat the oppressive cycles and violent consequences they produce. Repetition and dominance made us accept the consequences these systems present as immutable circumstances instead of the changeable circumstances they are. 


In my life, there are circumstances I could not change; my parents dying, not being well enough to attend an academic institution, and existing in the intersection of different marginalized identities. Despite these circumstances and not having what they said I needed to have, I still feel like what I’ve come to know is valuable. My experience, what I feel in my body, is valuable. What I have learned in relation with others and in the real world is valuable.


Through my experiences, I learned that knowledge is not exclusive to the systems and institutions that withhold it. I’ve learned more from shooting the breeze with my friends than I did in a college lecture room. Knowledge does not belong to anyone—meaning it should have no gatekeepers—especially to those that benefit from me not having it. Now, I fully understand the phrase “knowledge is power”.  I understand that knowledge has many forms and is expressed in many ways. It is evident in traditions passed down from my grandmother and customs subconsciously replicated across the country within my diaspora. I believe the sharing, expressing, and validation of this knowledge leads to humanity’s collective power—with which we can and will transform the world for good.


My art, my soul's expression and extension of my imagination, is a form of knowledge. Its teaching materials, visual aides, and codifications. I express what I imagine and I imagine a future where there are no barriers to knowledge. “Garden” represents the sharing of knowledge in alignment with nature, in the future, by the power of imagination. 


Five people in a garden, constructed with figurative shapes under the arc of a rainbow. The rainbow, a visual representation of the visible light spectrum on the electromagnetic spectrum—what we know as light; and a symbolic representation of imagination—representing its renaissance. Light, touching all things and powering all life, is representative of knowledge. The people engaged in various conversations over their numerous encounters and sessions in the garden. They talk about philosophy, the importance of archives and what's for dinner. They share stories of their lives—what brings them joy, and what’s bothering them. They ask for what they need. They learn about each other and the world around them. Under the arc of the rainbow, the possibilities are endless. The people are students. The garden is their classroom and everything that surrounds them is their teacher—including each other. Fortified institutions creating impermeable barriers to knowledge are no longer the standard. The culture that upheld these barriers is no more. The future of boundless creativity and innovation has come into fruition.

Tags: writing, philosophy, acrylic painting
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