these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.

thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.

my artist website is here.

Mar 12, 2009

weak stomach...

i am becoming less and less able to handle any type of gore in movies. my sweetie and i just finished watching The Flock and i pretty much spent the majority of the film in the other room; which sucks because it really did seem like a great movie and i love claire danes (what girl doesn't?), but after researching the deaths of sylvia likens and jon benet ramsey this week, i just couldn't handle it at all.

i'm usually pretty squeamish when it comes to blood, in real life or not, but today i felt like i might actually throw up. i had to run out of the room with my ears plugged so i couldn't hear the movie either. it just no longer seems like fiction once you've read real-life torture and murder stories which, sadly, is part of the job at this point in my practice. luckily, the research hasn't desensitized me... something i was initially afraid would happen. if anything, it's made me more compassionate, more understanding, and more ethical in my daily dealings with people... which is the whole point of the work in the first place.

and my one big complaint with google- please don't let autopsy photographs pop up in an image search. those images are supposed to be housed in the 18 and older section of crime websites and the like. not good. not good at all. by the time i paged passed the fifth one i was ready to lock myself in the bathroom and cry until i passed out.

No comments: