The blood red waters of gluttony. The interlaced legs of lovers in lust. The fallen bodies in envy. The slumped, delicate body of sloth. The penetrative eyes of greed. The entangled headlessness of wrath. The vejigante mask in pride. In Isabella Mellado’s newest work, the seven deadly sins are larger than life—combining these universal condemnations with the identities of boricua, femme, and queer. Applying oil on canvas with reference material—pre-staged photographs organized by the artist—the vision is set in unpacking what is emotion and what borders the “sinfulness” of these sentiments. Masks play an overarching role in hiding the identities within the series, a triple entendre of masking as performance, as drag, and as crafted emblems of a shared folk. Made by Mellado, who either dresses herself or friends, the paintings speak to the reality of living in diaspora as a Puerto Rican, where what appears to be the Caribbean sea is actually Lake Michigan, and how theatrics play a role in the way that belief is dissipated across the world.

Catholicism and the birth of tarot cards in the Renaissance are two faith systems that converge in Mellado’s practice. Everything from reliquaries where jewel-encrusted skulls are housed to sheer, flowing fabric worn by the subjects creates momentum to be visually transported to a liminal space of possibility—where a body of water is the foundation for the suit of cups or a harlequin tile floor juxtaposes a medieval stain glass window. Queerness is the artist’s weapon of choice, as a reminder that shame is a manufactured lens through which sexuality is repeatedly questioned and challenged by those who have the power to influence a crowd, whether a country, a church, or a household. Across Mellado’s reimaginings of morality, the raw humanity of simply being is the sole truth.