drunkenly drew henna on everyone’s hand and arms tonight
i hope their stuff comes out correctly cuz everyone’s been moving their arms a lot ayyyy
kelly surdo, dying angels
this was a writing piece i made on the floor of the computer lab at school during after hours. i had been adamantly emotionally unavailable for a dangerous amount of time. it was a moment when something had cracked inside my chest and i felt something warm inside of myself for the first time in forever. i was beginning to let others in again in a way that wasn’t explicitly destructive. i jotted the phrase down as an iphone note, packed my things and walked quickly back to my apartment. the print itself i made at parsons, ronika was allowing us to make prints of some of our work in hopes that a physical form of these pieces that lived solely on the internet would protect me from my demons at bay, at least that was the idea. i think it worked because i still carry them. the piece of silk was the only present i received for my birthday this year, a gift from a good friend who said the texture felt important and reminded them of me. it’s all that mattered. together they make something much greater than me.