Celeste Diaz Falzone (b. 1998 in Dallas TX to Colombian mother and American Father) lives and works in Pawtucket RI. Her studio practice consists of 2 and 3D mixed media with a base in textiles. Celeste's work is built on her experiences and touches on themes of neurodiversity, identity, and humanity.
I like shopping, sometimes baking, and the idea of holidays. I like looking at buildings and houses, imagining the things I would put in them or what my routine would look like in that space. I like watching people have conversations and pretending I’m in them. I like animal videos, usually crocodiles. I like eating at the grocery store and going for quiet walks in the woods. I like when people impede on my space, and make me realize I can feel more alive than I do right now. I like when you trust someone enough to start bothering them and impeding on their space. Boundaries can be a fun and scary game. I like laughing a lot. I identify with the sad clown. I like getting touched at TSA and by doctors. I call that “stranger touch”. I like picking skin and want more luxury in my life, like steam and grass fed food. I could see myself becoming a biohacker in another iteration. Stand Up comedy is my favorite thing to consume. I like music when I’m alone or if I’m going out dancing. Besides that I have bad hearing so it can be anxiety inducing. I like working quietly and eating yogurt standing up while I contemplate what's in front of me. I'm not interested in facts unless they are fantastical. I care about an individual's point of view more than any point. If you are a new person in my life we’ve had many conversations in my head, and I probably will never know you as well as the person I have imagined you to be in my fantasy. I cry easily at displays of great effort and achievement, like athletics and performances. I get joy from routine and order above anything else. I dream intensely and vividly every night, and often revisit places I've been in previous dreams. I obsess over people I know as if they are celebrities, only one person at a time. It feels good but also agonizing. I generally feel incredible and depressed equally. Usually one for 5 days then the other. I shift between melting and combusting, struggling with a profound lack of energy to channel these sensations into a non-exploitative form, such as creating art. I feel more like a movie than a main character. I feel scared of people often, either like they have authority over me or I have too much over them, never in retrospect does that seem to be the case. Even though there's a lot of fear, interaction with others feels pretty much always worth it. My emotions rarely feel stable unless I am keeping up with diet and exercise, I deeply desire to feel calm and safe. I imagine both these things to be true for most people. The point of life to me used to feel like experiencing the widest range of all things I could, currently it feels more like getting everything in its right place. Maybe being an artist is just needing to process things physically. I feel as though I am stuck in a primary state of processing, witnessing the world around me that I see instead of engaging in it, and picking something to do. I know that this doesn’t make sense, as making art is doing something, and I am part of the world, but reflecting on life itself as a way of living is a strange thing that puts you at a distance from everything in it.