“I’ve always had a purpose to my creativity,” says Pomona Lake, a Vancouver graphic designer and artist. She found that purpose fast and early, when an image from a high-school art project went profoundly, monumentally viral.

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Pomona Lake by Grady Mitchell

This particular picture shows the back of a woman’s legs with her skirt pulled up. Running up her left leg is a sequence of markings, each labelled with a different qualifier, starting with “matronly” just above the ankle and finishing with “whore” just under the cheeks. It was a simple and scathing commentary on sexism – “I think that art came out of feeling my sexuality for the first time,” Pomona says, “feeling sexualized by external people,” – and it understandably took off.

Just 18-years-old, fresh into her first year of design at Capilano University, she suddenly became to thousands of people worldwide the face of young feminism. She was inundated with messages, both caustic hatemail and proclamations of support from likeminded supporters worldwide. She was interviewed by major publications like The New Statesman and cited in university classes across the globe. At one point it took her to Belgium to battle a racist group who co-opted the concept for their own agenda.

Pomona Lake
Pomona Lake

Few creatives get such an all-encompassing response to their work, especially as a teen. And even people decades older would have been hard-pressed to handle it with Pomona’s level-headedness. While the outpouring of support was empowering, she didn’t let the anonymous attacks faze her. “It’s really easy to see through the hate mail,” she explains. “They’re just scared.”

Although she’d been declared an expert, the unexpected success of the photograph was what actually sparked Pomona’s activism. At the time the piece came out she didn’t even identify as a feminist, she was just working off her own experiences. “I realized I was completely ignorant and needed to know things,” she says. She embarked on a serious self-driven education, focusing on feminism but spiralling into other areas, and hasn’t slowed since.

Today Pomona makes a point of offering her design services to deserving people and companies that otherwise couldn’t afford them. During business hours she works at Yulu PR, which she describes as “the Robin Hood of PR firms.” Off the clock she helps out worthy causes.

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Pomona Lake by Grady Mitchell

Through her work she hopes to change the flawed and unbalanced system of capitalism by gaming it from the inside. It’s not that she thinks the system is run by some cat-stroking, monocled super villain. She just recognizes that most people are looking out for themselves – “everyone’s just dumb, not evil,” – and with a little readjustment life could be a lot more fair for everyone.

She’s a proponent of “liberating funds,” using money earned through her work in responsible ways like shopping at small, local businesses, finding alternative ways to meet needs, and re-investing in the community. It’s all part of her life mission, which she’s honed down to this: “To open eyes and ears and bring people together.”

She pauses for a second, thinks, then nods. “And fix bullshit.”

On Saturday, November 9, at 8:00pm, Derrick Fast is opening his art show, Tears of Joy, at Antisocial Skate Shop. His work is about labour, constructing pieces from thousands of component parts. Sometimes he uses patterns of dots and shapes, painstakingly painted by hand, to create skulls and hypnotic geometries. Other times he paints on found objects, or builds installations from cumbersome materials, like brick. To Derrick, art is about hard work and patience, achieving beauty through tedium.

Photo courtesy Grady Mitchell

Sad Mag: So how did the show come about?

Derrick Fast: I bought a hoodie there [Antisocial Skate Shop], and it was too small. They didn’t have a bigger size so they had to order another one in. I went in every single day to see if another one had come in. Every time she said no and I felt really bad, because I bugged her everyday for this stupid hoodie. And it didn’t come in for months. So over that time she found out that I painted, and said I should have an art show here.

SM: So are these pieces being made specifically for the show, or projects you were working on anyway?

DF: After I found out I was going to have a show I thought it would be cool to have a theme. There are only three colours in it: red, white, and black. I got a lot of the simple colour scheme from old sign painting, I’m pretty interested in that, hand painted signs.

SM: The work comes in a lot of forms: there are traditional paintings, paint on found bottles, paint on bricks. How did you arrive at those materials, what drew you to them?

DF: I don’t really know how it started. With the brick thing, I wanted it to be a real pain in the ass. There are so many, I wanted it to be in a room and have a presence. Bricks are so heavy, they’re built to last and it’s a hassle to move them.

SM: The point of the bricks isn’t just the pile of them on its own, though, it’s about the word that you’ve painted on each one, building it into a pyramid of these jumbled, disassociated terms. How did you select the words? Is there any particular pattern or sequence, or are they just assembled randomly?

DF: The idea was to get words that trigger either negative or positive emotions. There’s one that says “morals,” and right beside it is one that says “slut,” and then “pure.” There’s “eager” and “adore,” but also “needles” and “secrets” and “need,” so I feel, depending on who you are, if you look at it, you automatically connect words.

SM: So the art is informed by what people bring to it.

DF: Yeah, and that’s also why it’s so big, it’s going to be overhead height. There are around a hundred bricks, I think.

SM: It seems like a lot of your style is assembling piece from a number smaller parts: the bricks with words painted on them, the skulls assembled from thousands of dots or shapes. Why that style?

DF: It’s real tedious. I think it’s about what I was saying earlier: I want it to look like somebody’s, oh wow, put so much work into that one thing. So much work went into something so small. All the bricks, all these little dots make up one thing. I like that you can see all the little mistakes, you can tell that it’s done by hand and that it took so long. That’s what I like about it. It’s not like a computer did it. It looks human. It looks like a pain in the ass. Wow, somebody would go through so much effort to make this thing.

Photo courtesy Grady Mitchell

SM: Why is that effort important to you?

DF: A lot of it had to do with me getting into sign painting. A lot of signage is vinyl, very heartless, but when you see a hand painted sign, you can see all the little mistakes and you can tell it was done with a human hand. If it’s done by hand it’ll never be perfect, but I feel like it brings something to the table.

SM: When you start on a piece, do you have an image in your mind of what it’ll look like when it’s done?

DF: Not really, I just kind of wing it. With those skull ones, I had no idea if it was going to work or not. With these, you can tell I get more precise over time. I like the imperfect one more than the perfect ones. Margaret Killgallen is really about that, you can tell they’re all wavery. That’s also why I like doing more tedious stuff. If you look at the triangles, you can see every single line waver. I always think by the end of it I’m going to have a shake, going to need eyeglasses.

Tears of Joy opens at Antisocial Skate Shop at 8PM on Saturday, November 9th and runs until December 2. Once he’s done moving his pile of bricks, Derrick sure would love to see you there. To see more of his work, visit him online.