Waiting for an Echo
This collection of images stands as an expression of the harsh division set between childhood and adulthood. More broadly, I aim to challenge the categorization of identity and speak to the ways in which it can limit and corrupt our experience of self.
With a shaky hand I reach out to wipe the mirror clean again, hoping to see the sculpture that
holds some holy ghost understood.
But the napkin I’ve used I clench with too firm a grip
and the statue before me is bent into a shape I don't understand.
She is wearing her school uniform.
My mother never taught me how to wash my clothes,
so I will pluck every hair off my body until I find the plaster binding
this fleshy container to its home.
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