PEPPER RUEDA

This is What My Depression Looks Like, 2026
Faux flowers, floral foam, paperback book, 12 x 10 x 10 inches, $200

This work engages "The Aesthetics of Care" through the daily labor of showing up when care is exhausting, incomplete, and still nonnegotiable. The piece consists of a faux flower bouquet arranged atop "We’ve Got This", a collection of essays by disabled parents. I did not finish the book, not because it lacked value, but because even there I could not find myself. The quiet frustration of searching for belonging and coming up empty underlies the work.

The color palette carries much of the meaning. Light blues, whites, and grays reflect the isolation of being a very disabled parent, particularly while practicing anarchist-level gentle parenting philosophies that resist control, productivity, and punishment. Black represents the ongoing presence of depression, something I manage rather than overcome. Purple signifies fibromyalgia, a condition that permeates every aspect of my life, shaping my mental health and the limits of what my body can give.

A deep maroon element was chosen by my child so they could take part in the work. Their contribution centers them, reflecting how my commitment to their well-being informs every decision I make. Threads of pink, taken from something that once belonged to my late mother, are woven through the bouquet, pointing to her lasting influence and the complicated inheritance of expectations I would not meet.

Small reflective silver elements are embedded within the dense arrangement. They are easy to miss and not celebratory. They function as fragile attempts at hope, pressing through overwhelm. Care here is not presented as softness or resolution, but as endurance, grief, and love practiced under constraint.

Pepper Rueda is a Pittsburgh-based artist originally from North Carolina. Her new media sculptures, "Blooming Books," began almost by accident -- a product of learning to live with the grief of her mother’s passing. Once the idea took hold, Pepper fell in love with the art form and felt compelled to keep building.

Aside from a few tips shared by generous professional florists, Rueda lacks formal art training. Her work is playful, intuitive, and a kind of emotional reset for her. Deeply rooted in a lifelong love of flowers, gardens, bouquets, and color -- Blooming Books are proof that joy can exist even alongside loss.