Soft Like Armor 

A part of “Vessel,” Dairy Arts Center, Boulder, CO
December 6, 2022 - January 28, 2023

This series pays homage to six surgeries I underwent from September 2017 to February 2021. My body was mangled, dislocated, rebuilt, traumatized, and disabled by them. After five years of struggling to ‘heal’ back to an able bodied standard, experiencing debilitating chronic pain, and being diagnosed with a chronic illness that was both the root cause of the injuries and my inability to heal, my body and mind screamed for a truce. The experience required me to soften my anger towards my failing body, relinquish typical expectations of what it means to heal, and access unending depths of forgiveness and deservedness for myself.

This series honors the way our bodies work to heal our wounds (physical and emotional) in ways we will never know. The cells that grow, the patterns that soften, the breaths that relinquish. All of the healing that happens on a cellular and energetic level that we aren’t able to celebrate or notice. The power our bodies hold to heal, unlearn, relinquish, and forgive without our knowing in order to keep us in the fight.

There was so much good in the pain 

But the light was out 

A sandstorm breathing down a candlestick’s neck 

Not all bracelets are for decoration, 

Not all drill holes are for furniture, 

I’m held together by string, 

The braided tissue of a stranger, 

All by way of paperwork 

Whose risk wasn’t just a papercut.

What happens when torture is deemed consensual 

How did you do all of that to me while I was asleep 

Only to wake up and realize I was still asleep

My eyes were closed

Movements were frozen but

My body kept recording. 

My body is talking 

It’s asking for so much healing, 

Begging for some agency, 

Little mini litigations, 

With no verdict but forgiveness. 

From the truce will come a presence in your pain. 

Gold you’ll spin of your scars, 

And gratefulness 

For the parts that will stay,

Heavy as lead.

You’ll spin shields, 

Porous enough to breathe 

Strong enough to forgive

A kingdom of stillness

Soft like armor.