things i can not say
2025-ongoing
I got sick in March of 2020, when we still didn’t comprehend the scope of the virus that continues to sweep the globe and alter our lives irrevocably. This led to me acquiring long covid, and I have been a different person ever since. One that is chronically ill. It is exceptionally rare for me to go 24 hours without having to navigate some problem with this new body of mine. I have to measure and weigh each activity against my abilities and energy. I am figuring out how to accommodate myself in a world that has decided that there is no need to mitigate the ongoing spread of a novel virus. I hold most of my thoughts and feelings about the collective abandonment of public health inside.
Until now. Using the symbolic language of flowers to give voice to all the things that I can not say has been cathartic. And sad. Holding both the anger and the sorrow together as the images splinter and fray. The visual vocabulary that LiDAR scanning apps gives me is immense. Making concrete the distortions, absences, gaps, and misunderstandings that swirl continuously. Both around my body and my feelings.
The title of each image lists the botanicals in that image.
The link below goes to the zine I've created that acts as a dictionary to decipher what I said with that still life.
Until now. Using the symbolic language of flowers to give voice to all the things that I can not say has been cathartic. And sad. Holding both the anger and the sorrow together as the images splinter and fray. The visual vocabulary that LiDAR scanning apps gives me is immense. Making concrete the distortions, absences, gaps, and misunderstandings that swirl continuously. Both around my body and my feelings.
The title of each image lists the botanicals in that image.
The link below goes to the zine I've created that acts as a dictionary to decipher what I said with that still life.
