Bananant
Antwoman has long been my avatar, alter-ego, and blank canvas for artistic expression. Her actions are repetitive, almost Sisyphean—a female Sisyphus, if you will—serving as a reminder that in the endless race of life, much of it is an illusion. This realization, that everything may ultimately be meaningless, can lead to despair or a desire to give up. Yet Antwoman offers an alternative: to keep going anyway. To find joy, play, and meaning in life because, ultimately, that’s what we have. I l...
