The Imaginary Herbarium of the Island. A conversation on the threshold.
Our
body is the battleground more
than ever.
In
addition to our biological life cycles, we are experiencing new challenges that
put our lives on a constant threshold - in anthropology the threshold is the space where an
individual does not belong to her/his past anymore and is waiting for a new
social and personal status.
These new
patterns are changing the old layout of individuals, families, communities and
countries (migration, economical and political instability, ageing population, gender
fluidity, etc.)
How does
the complexity of these new patterns impact on our body?
Should we re-define the meaning of
identity and roots and re-set
ourselves?
Is
this disorientating
time
making us more lonely and frail? Is it exciting or exhausting?
Where
is home?
I want to
explore this journey, our ability to adapt and pay tribute to the human spirit.
I sowed breasts in the garden
For the child I never had,
never was, I am
The
ages of the nipple - Source: Sir Astley Paston Cooper, 1768-1841
The Imaginary Herbarium of Doctor James Barry
I am wearing the flower of my
tongue
learning to be frugal with
words.
Inks, pastels
and graphite on paper, 2014
Tongue -
Source: John Lizars, 1787 – 1860
During
the day my tongue speaks words of care.
At
night my tongue fondles my lover.
Inks, pastels
and graphite on paper, 2014
Tongue - Source: Giovanni Battista Morgagni, 1682 – 1771
I walk my heart on paper
Waiting for the new words to
come and visit us.
Inks, pastels
and graphite on paper, 2014
Heart, lymphatic vessels - Source: Marie Philibert Constant Sappey, 1810 – 1896
I sink my teeth into my doubts
and chew over
Until they fly away like kind
birds
Inks, pastels
and graphite on paper, 2014
Tooth, vertical section - Source:
D.J. Cunningham, 1850 - 1909
I still keep the shy heart of my childhood
among the plants of my garden
Inks, pastels
and graphite on paper, 2014
Heart and lungs - Source: Giulio
Cesare Casseri, 1552 - 1616
Your nocturnal voice illuminates my labyrinths
Inks and
pastels on paper, 2014
Ear labyrinth - Source: Florence Fenwick Miller, 1854 – 1936
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