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What happens to our sense of identity as we move through different cultures?
Waiting for permission to be me:
In ‘Waiting for permission to be me’ I look back at myself in my different roles inside the idea of waiting. What was I waiting for? Was I waiting for someone to say ‘hey it’s ok to be you’. Was I waiting for someone to say I was good enough? I am looking from a distance, reflecting on the absurdity of this idea that I was waiting. From that distance, like an anthropologist, I can see the strangeness. I am past the pain of that specific voicelessness. I must begin to build my own manual. Only by asking questions or hearing other peoples experiences and perspectives do I start to question my own set of beliefs and ideas. It causes a glitch in my reality. But that glitch is powerful because it allows me to take a look and ask, “Is this what I believe or is this what I was told to believe?”
My Eyebrows Fell Off:
‘My Eyebrows Fell Off’ responds to my personal experience of being in Japan. Tackling the issue of assimilation and identity, bearing witness to a desire to assimilate next to the impossibility of that action.Late one night in Tokyo I am standing in the bathroom in front of a small mirror splashing my face with water. I look up and see my face in the mirror. I am startled because my eyebrows are gone and with my fingertips I touch my eyebrows. And I laugh, of course they are still there. But what happened? Why did my eyebrows seem invisible? The confusion lasted no more than twenty seconds, but observing the smallest details often reveal the larger issues. When we move through different cultures it is important to understand those cultures, respect them. As humans we have a desire to become part of the group. When we shift cultures we see ourselves in unexpected ways. We see ourselves as foreign. There is a real internal struggle as we explore our identity, as we attempt to fit into a new environment and culture. In the mirror I was startled to discover the paleness of my own coloring. I was startled to discover I wasn’t Japanese. But why did I even think I was Japanese?
I am a misogynist
In “I am a misogynist” I explore the roles embedded in culture, playfully identifying inside the different roles and what it means to be a female artist in the male art world.
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