At this point in time I am still unsure as to whether I want to have my text on show or as an overlay on a video or as an audio.
As communication is one of my main struggles, being able to communicate through my art is my only outlet. After finding some creative ways to access my subconscious and what has been bothering me, I was inspired to turn it into words as well.
I’ve always had a keen interest in text with art- such as Emin, Bourgeois, Kelly, Woodman.
The words people to choose to pair with their work, their words they use to explain or express, words they think etc it intrigues me.
I find the words they use as the real honesty and clear thought process..
I have used a journal for writing my thoughts for a few years now and it has helped me to learn about myself and learn how to reflect. Often my writing has influenced my art work or vice versa.
I can feel myself fading to your sweet embrace,
You hold me so tight never leaving my side,
You’re curled around my veins and pressed against my face,
Run down my throat and fill my mind.
I can feel myself fading, I’m no longer here,
Tranced in my limbo of a never ending fight
I need to come back, live without fear
And to see the world with a whole new sight
This door is all I have to keep me safe from your gaze.
This wall is holding me still away from the world’s maze.
This window is how I leave without having to be seen.
This floor keeps me grounded when I’m stuck in between.
Time stands still on some days, most Days. There is no such thing
time? It is a blur, a fog in my mind
I too am taken by moments of inertia
The absence of sound, movement, empathy that I feel sinks me further
Time doesn’t exist there.
The inside of me is shrinking into the dark hole in the pit of my stomach.
The outside of me is pulsating with blood, burning with heat, tingling and weak.
I’m conscious of my breath but can’t control it.
Unable to focus, my mind is completely dominated by my body. Body completely dominated by mind.
I feel like my stomach is crumbling, my throat has tightened and Im trying not to choke on my own thoughts.
My face has dropped, eyes, arms, legs are heavy.
My body is weighed down, my insides are light and bouncing around. I’m literally fighting out of my own confined space.
Identity is perception
Identity is movement
Which identity do I identify, today?
Is it loss? Is it my own inability
to accept? Is it me?
Tell me what you see.
I am what you want me to be
I can be what I want to be
But who is me?
Am I split? Or absent
Myth or reality?
I’m not feeling myself today.