This is an illness that will heal, but I won't be better.

2019


Dimensions

Acrylic on wood.

 

The Series

Undoubtedly, you have experienced at least one moment that has transformed how you navigate the world. It may have been very private, and while nobody may have noticed, in that instant, your world suddenly changed forever. A new facet formed in the complex and beautiful geode that is you. I believe it is these moments that truly shape us and these are the nuggets of humanity that I am fascinated with.

This piece is part of a series in which I invited my community to share a moment of significance with me. Through the series, I have been able to connect with my community in ways I haven’t able to before and get a deeper understanding of their experiences. Using our discussions as a guide, I create pieces, illustrating their moments, to be shared with the world. So that they can be heard.

 

————————————————————

Theresa’s Story

Tess+1.jpg

This pain is a dark navy blue.  

It’s bizarrely

physical, its nauseating

strangling.

This pain matters.  

But remember what it

was?

This

doesn’t even register.  

That pain was bright, and

incomprehensible.

That pain held fast

as I'm fighting to the next hour, next

minute.  

That pain was

strange

screams

alone in my car.

It was constant, pervasive. So

how was it still sudden, staggering

assaults of memory,

worse than a knife,

worse than anything that bleeds or breaks.

Caring is a vicious thing,

sneaking in with

deep deep claws.

The greatest traitor,

worst betrayal.

Despair is dark blue and

grief is grey and the abyss

is a terrifying sight.

Hope is a forest green

This is an illness

that will scar but

heal, and

I will be different, and

I will be powerful, but

I won't be better.

It is the cruelest thing in the world

that we can feel this

utterly

and yet there is nothing we can do

to fix it and this is just what it is like to be

human.