Please Forgive My Sad Stone | 2022
Lately I have been exposed to a fair amount of bad luck and violence, no more rose tinted windows to look through. This body of mine is not shock proof, I hope I make it out alive: yeah! That’s definitely the taste of blood; I wonder how long I have to keep fighting to stay alive in a body that does not know how to protect itself.
I have to keep creating art so that my everyday life can seem less mundane, it’s a self-indulgent activity and it’s delicious. Being the essence of the work has lead me to focus more on how my body feels when I am making art, unbalanced I would say, especially having to keep up with the demand of being resilient whilst fighting off an emotional crisis after having something bad happen to me. I read somewhere that traumatic experiences are often stored inside the pelvic floor and only realizing that maybe I might not fully heal from the things that happened and those that are yet to happen.