Memory Piece

The physicality of making things, the performance, temporarily displaced how stuck she felt, in this particular body, family, town, time.

Giselle wondered how important it was to have a complicated life in addition to making your art.

If you did not maintain the days, what proof would you have of your existence, time passing?

Giselle’s features solidified. Whether she was beautiful, hot, pretty, or none of the above changed according to who was doing the looking and to whom she was being compared. Beauty was relative, reflective; you learned early to rank and code, to tally appearance and desirability in seconds, a subconscious algorithm that input body parts, clothing, attitude, makeup.

Something about absolutes, the cultish nature of them, made her wary of unconditional loyalty to sports teams, politicians, alma maters, never mind nation.

Conscious and not-conscious. This would become her private superpower, the ability to escape herself, to circumvent expectations.