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Day Zero. Fat Cells. Concrete. Water.

Baseline. Emptiness. Void. Full.

March 4th, 2012. Sunday.

I WAS DONE.

So began my journey... this couldn't possibly be it. There was physical discomfort and

MENTAL TORTURE. Night Sweats. Chills. Rage.

More emptiness.

I've heard of others refer to this insidious drug as being KICKED TO DEATH BY A BUNNY.

 

Yes. A bunny.

 

This particular "rock bottom" is soft.

So you keep digging and digging.

At some point I turned to look up to see if I was almost "there" and I could barely see any light from the bottom of the pit.

 

Somehow, I was finally pulled out.

By something?

By others? How? I HATED OTHERS.

But there I was, blinded by the light, my whole body adjusting to the sudden glare.

APERTURES.

Every cell in my body squinting.

MY MIND SCREAMING.

I walked along the edge. The ecosystem revealing its beauty to me in glimpses that I could not fully ignore,

WHICH I BOTH LOVED AND HATED.

Although I'm quite certain I was not capable of feeling love just then.

The concrete alive under my feet in its ebb and flow, graceful dance of

EXPANSION AND CONTRACTION.

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7 Series 01: Fat Cells, 2016 

Ink on vellum. 12" x 18"

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