June 7, 2010

So. It's been a while. And now I'm in a rush. Here's the short version:

All is well.

Then, a few weeks ago, my epileptic brain short circuits and I wake up in a pool of my own blood, with memory loss and broken bones. (Really.)

Then, I discover that my friends, family, and boyfriend are really really awesome.

Then, I spend a few weeks wandering around half-myself in and out of hospitals getting tested and put back together.

Simultaneously, I regain my awareness that I really love my life and my work and my mind and my body and would hate to lose any of it. But I guess I'll take what I can get.

Then, I get very afraid that I will never recover. But I do, and I am. And I finally sort of feel like myself again. Except a little humbled, and very thankful. I moved my dining table next to the window. I miss my studio. I needed the rest.

So I'm thinking even more and differently about memory, confinement, health, the body and the powers hidden in it, time and fragility, work, rest, freedom, identity, weakness, and how much we need each other.

And I was just looking over my writings about this piece and I think that the idea of exchange is what is really missing. There needs to be a dynamic conversation, a back and forth between the audience and the "subjects," in a real, literal way, in order for both sides to care what they're doing, seeing, hearing, experiencing, making. I don't know why I didn't see it before, but I see it now.