Tag: LGBTQ+ art

Marsha P.: When the Past Becomes Present

I find myself reminiscing about the past more often these days.

I think about Christopher Street and the wonderful life that was lived there. I think about the friends I made, and the friends who became family, during one of the most intense periods in LGBTQ+ history—the AIDS epidemic.

So many of those friends are gone now.

But I still think about them. I remember them. And I think about the wonderful life I have had, and the life I am still having, and how much fun it would have been to share some of this life with them.

Maybe that has something to do with how Marsha P. came into being.

Original black line drawing that later became Marsha P., composed of abstract circles, flowers, arrows, eyes, and a broad smile.
The original abstract drawing—the first stage of what became Marsha P.
Early stage of Marsha P. with pale pink-and-blue washes beneath the original abstract line drawing.
An early stage, as I explored tinting beneath the drawing and bringing areas back.
Marsha P. in progress, taped to a drawing board as deeper blues, reds, yellows, and facial details begin to emerge.
A middle stage of the drawing, as the eyes, smile, and surrounding colors became more defined.
Finished mixed-media drawing Marsha P., featuring an exuberant face surrounded by flowers, circular forms, and richly layered colors.
Marsha P. — finished mixed-media drawing by Bill Hendricks, 2025.

The drawing did not begin as Marsha P. Johnson.

I know that.

It began as a very abstract sort of image. I was working with shapes and lines without any intention of making a portrait.

Then I began to see something.

First I saw the smile.

At this point, I was exploring how to tint underneath the drawing—putting color down and then bringing areas back.

As I worked, I began to see the eyes.

And all along there was a certain joy in the drawing that kept coming through.

I continued drawing, painting, changing things, covering things, uncovering things. The more I worked, the more something from my own history seemed to be coming forward.

My past became present.

Marsha was part of the world I remember.

I don’t mean that Marsha and I were close friends. We weren’t.

She was someone who passed through my life.

But she was a character on Christopher Street, just as I was a character on Christopher Street—working in a gallery among lots of other characters I loved dearly.

There was something about seeing her emerge from this drawing that gave me a way of becoming involved with that world again.

Not simply remembering it.

Participating in it.

For a little while, the distance between then and now became smaller.

The finished work became Marsha P.

For me, it carries more than the image of one person. It carries something of Christopher Street, of friendship, of loss, of survival, and of the extraordinary joy that existed alongside some very difficult years.

Maybe that is why the joy in the drawing matters so much to me.

The work later traveled to New York, where it was exhibited during Pride Month. The original Marsha P. is now available through Collective Z Gallery on Artsy.

But when I look at it, that isn’t what I think about first.

I think about the people.

I think about the life we lived.

Sometimes, while making a drawing, the past finds its way back into the room.

Currently at Collective Z

Collective Z is currently presenting Second Nature, bringing together painters Gwen Yip and Spencer Patrick. Their work considers the spaces New Yorkers move through—from the public world of subway platforms to the private interiors where people retreat.

Second Nature is on view through August 29, 2026, at Collective Z, 325 Broome Street, New York.

Learn more about the exhibition.

Reflections on Collective Z

Reflections on Collective Z

Bill Hendricks, Kaitlin Reid, and Michael Reid pose in front of Marsha P. during The Ordinary exhibition at Collective Z Gallery in Manhattan, June 4, 2026.
Bill Hendricks, Kaitlin Reid, and Michael Reid at The Ordinary, standing in front of Marsha P. at Collective Z Gallery in Manhattan, June 4, 2026.

My drawing, Marsha P., was recently included in The Ordinary, a Pride Month group exhibition at Collective Z Gallery in Manhattan.

I went to New York not knowing quite what to expect. It had been a long time since I had shown work in a setting like this, and I arrived with all the usual questions: How would the work look? How would people respond? Would I feel comfortable there?

What surprised me most was how interested I became in the other artists’ work. I arrived focused on my own piece, but quickly found myself drawn into the larger exhibition. The quality of the work impressed me, and I was proud to see Marsha P. holding its own among it.

There was another surprise.
Friends appeared. Some I had not seen in years. Others reached out online. Their support meant more to me than I expected.

Standing in the gallery, surrounded by artists, friends, and people engaging with the work, I felt something I hadn’t anticipated: a sense of belonging.

When I look back on the experience, I will remember the artwork, the conversations, and the people who showed up. But I will also remember realizing that, after many years, I still have something to contribute as an artist.

For that, I am grateful.

The Ordinary remains on view through the end of the month at Collective Z Gallery in Manhattan. Marsha P. is also available for purchase.

I am especially grateful to Alex Wang and Collective Z Gallery for creating the exhibition, bringing together such a diverse group of LGBTQ+ artists, and making space for these conversations.

The Ordinary — Pride Month Exhibition at Collective Z

Promotional collage for The Ordinary, a Pride Month group exhibition, featuring a grid of diverse mixed-media artworks including abstract drawings, figures, symbols, and contemporary visual narratives by participating artists.
The Ordinary — a Pride Month group exhibition at Collective Z Gallery featuring works by participating artists.

“Being queer is ordinary. So is making good work.”
— Collective Z, The Ordinary exhibition statement

When Collective Z announced The Ordinary, I immediately understood why the title mattered.

For many of us, simply living our lives has too often been treated as something unusual, controversial, or in need of explanation. Yet most of life is made up of ordinary things: friendships, work, love, loss, community, and the hope of being seen for who we are.

My piece Marsha P. is included in this exhibition. It began as a reflection on Marsha P. Johnson, but it also became a reminder of the people who came before us and the lives that made our own possible.

Sometimes the most important stories are not extraordinary at all. They are simply human.

Marsha P. Johnson, New York, and Old Threads

Expressive watercolor and ink painting with luminous circular and organic forms, honoring the resilience and spirit of Marsha P. Johnson.
Marsha P, watercolor and ink on paper, 2025

Accepted: The Ordinary — Collective Z, New York

I’m happy to share that my piece “Marsha P. (Johnson)” has been accepted into The Ordinary, a Pride Month group exhibition at Collective Z in New York City.

The exhibition opens June 4, 2026 and runs through June 30. Michael and I will leave this Thursday to attend the opening on June 4 and return to the Twin Cities on June 7.

What’s interesting to me is that this isn’t really the beginning of something entirely new. While walking today I found myself remembering another LGBTQ exhibition in New York years ago that accepted one of my postcard works — a shadow image of Frank Stark and me against a wall.

Funny how these threads continue across time, even when we forget them for a while.

And if you’ve followed this blog for a while, you’ve probably seen Marsha appear here before.

“Marsha P. (Johnson)” is a mixed media work on paper inspired by Marsha’s presence, courage, and visibility. Having the work included in a Pride exhibition in New York feels especially meaningful given her history and connection to the city.

While working on the piece, there were moments where it felt as though Marsha herself appeared to greet me through the process — much the way insights or leadings sometimes emerge through meditation.

Image description:
Mixed media artwork on paper honoring Marsha P. Johnson. The piece combines layered textures, expressive marks, and symbolic imagery to evoke presence, resilience, vulnerability, and visibility within LGBTQ history and community.

Curious— how the story begins after the last stroke.

Eye in the Sky

Abstract mixed-media work with layered color connecting to memories of 1980s NYC and The Saint, featuring a subtle blue eye form in the lower right.
Eye In Th eSky-12012026

“I am the maker of rules, dealing with fools.”
— Eye in the Sky, Alan Parsons Project

Curious how the story begins with the last stroke of the pen or brush. As I look at the image — the strokes, shadows, and hues — something of the ’80s returns: the Saint, that holy spot. Dancing there with people I loved — accepting and greeting the universe. Death, hope, sorrow, play, joy, and the celebration of life — and a song: Eye in the Sky.

The line says “dealing with fools”…Nah. What circulates in my head is “protector of fools. I can read your mind.”

Bill Hendricks (Shadowmason)

Song reference: Eye in the Sky — The Alan Parsons Project

Related post:
Surrealism, Automatic Drawing and the Spirit
— a reflection on creativity, memory, and the unseen.