For ten years, I’ve played a chess game on my canvases that no one else could see. This isn't just a work in progress—it’s an active archive of erasure. I paint over my own pieces, again and again. Some of these canvases bury three entire paintings, sealed beneath flat gray. It is a direct, physical mirroring of the erasure of Black history. When stories are coordinated out of memory, they don’t just vanish—they get painted over. The final surface—the high-contrast lines, the dots, my Dazzel style—uses the Scintillating Grid illusion. It’s a defensive shield: your own eyes manufacture the flickering dark dots, tricking your brain into seeing something that isn't there. Seeing past the visual noise takes real, exhausting effort. That effort is the entire point—it's how systemic erasure actually works. The history is still breathing beneath the grid. You just have to fight the illusion to find it.