toward wholeness.
Through whisper, omission and myth, the archive shapes itself as a site of intimacy. There, the fragmented elements press against silence, against inherited truths, and begin to bear the weight of confrontation. The layered relics, in their juxtaposition and disruption, reveal the preserved but also the obscured and extend the invitation to bear witness to a piecing together of the self.
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it is the incessant grief of the woman i was
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and the woman I was and the woman I was
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we survive in part, and that too is beauty
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on the illusion of wholeness
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and the tenderness of this rage
