14×18 in. Graphite and watercolor on paper. 2016
Disability doesn’t mean inability. In Dante, Dis is the world of Shadow and Reflection. Disability is then rather, able through shadow and reflection. (Kevin Kling) When I reflect on my body and the shadows it’s kissed, I think of grass; a thin thing, mowed down over and over from disease and trauma. I like it because it is frail and common, yet incredibly resilient. Grass is the only plant that can be taken down to it’s roots repeatedly and with intense frequency and still thrive. I think on all of the times I’ve been broken down to square one: losing my health, my loved ones, or my knowledge of how things work. The frequency in which everything I know has been obliterated, and yet through it all I somehow come back, feels mysterious and strong. My body, though in pain, has a kind of wisdom and is teaching me to be present. I have some blunt edges now, but they feel like scars of resilience. And so I put this knowledge down. These aren’t skeletons because skeletons are cool (which they are!), they are they only way I know how to fully depict my dis-abled experience.
Created for the Growth/Decay Show via Antler Gallery. SOLD.