safe space

Inside these walls, inside the ivory tower, I thought that was were safety was. I longed to be in an office. Why?

I am moving. This is a expansion from Germany to the Netherlands. I am a force that is moving. Leaning in to an intense extraverted state. Thoughts are formulated, mixed with emotion, context, and out they roll through the most uncomfortable of portals, through an unforgivable, erratic mode of speech. I am exposed. I am obsessive; repetitive.

What is to be exposed? To who? To What?

If I am to create I must engage with exposure. Through a mode, each medium with complex goals and contents is a relational performance. Am I an extension or an other to this performance?

My chest burns red under my clothes reminding me of breath. Grateful for the clothes that cover my splotchy skin, for now it is the last layer to hide my discomfort with exposure. It is anything but comfort, safety. Then, how does one create in the mist of this lack, whatever form it comes in, of security and safe space?

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Reflection: Kathmandu, Nepal 2012

 

 

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