It was in that moment, the moment of complete disgust with the self, for having birthed her could not have been more vile, that she learned the transparency of her skin. She learned to protest and reject her body as if it had betrayed her. She abhorred her reflection and became the “other”. She  purged all security to become a separate bag of skin. The ultimate rejection, coming into one’s own. The only contact between reality and the “self” is through perverse fluctuation between the edges of present slippages of certainty. The ability to relinquish one’s own flesh and become vulnerable. There is no delineation between art and reality nor the security within the walls of its teaching. Language is not to be trusted and the body is to be experienced from the inside out.


Statement,  Mirandah Akeley