“I Said No.”
Somehow early motherhood has re-opened past traumas. Perhaps the physicality of it, giving my body entirely to someone else, often uncomfortably, forced my body to remember being taken. This time of so much loss, of so much disregard for humanity by some also opens those wounds.
The titles are important here. As I try to say “no” less often to my daughter, I hear it loudly each time. The phrase “I Said No” implies that I’ve said it before, yet it has not been heard or acted upon. I’m repeating myself, more and more forcefully with this “No.”
There’s a push and pull here between the closeups of the body and the more zoomed out images of domestic life.
The materiality of the clay soothes. Mushing clay helps me push the traumas out of my body. Are they then embedded in the clay?