Democracy

I created Democracy Flag in the quiet hours of early morning in 1989, while studying at Cal State Fullerton. The work emerged instinctively but forcefully—an American flag stripped to red, the field emblazoned with golden US Marshal stars. It was an image not of celebration, but of confrontation. The red signified not just valor, but blood—the price paid by millions in the name of an idea too often wielded as a weapon: democracy.

Over the years, I’ve come to see that the United States is not, technically, a democracy but a constitutional republic—an important distinction that is frequently misunderstood. Yet we export “democracy” with fervor, imposing a model upon nations whose values, histories, and spiritual texts may not align with its premise. Iraq or Libya and Iran and so many more stands as a devastating example of this disconnect, where systems were shattered to make room for a governance model neither desired nor spiritually sanctioned by its people.

Through my work—particularly the evolving Law and Order series—I examine what it means to pledge allegiance to symbols that carry histories of conquest, displacement, and imposed values. The flag becomes more than a design; it becomes a battleground of memory, a parchment where erased voices fight to be heard.