I was recenly asked to create a piece to accompany the closing of Chloe Austin's exhibition Living but a day: Texere at GOMA. The theme of the exhibition was queer resistance.
Natasha Everitt and I created a performance art and spoken word piece that was performed on October 12th at 4pm in the GOMA Waterford.
The piece is called Aegis; Which means a form of protection. Resistance involves protection, protection of our wounds, protecting the spaces we are safe in and infiltrating and changing the spaces that do not accept our queerness. I see social justice and environmental activism as the same battle and this performance is a way of imagining the necessary armour being created to protect our environment.
The performance involves elements of sound, spoken word and performance art. It tells the story of growing armour to resist oppression. You can read a full review of the piece at chloeaustin.com.
I illustrated a poster to promote the event for GOMA, to promote the event.
Audio
Spoken Word
First, he laughed at us, pointing a ring finger and nudging his wife. She joined in, chucking. They laughed as I held your hand tighter with every sneer. My knuckles cracking as I stared straight down their eyes. Horrid laughter, echoing through the tram. Trapping us in a glass case until the next stop. I'm not getting off for them... That would mean they won. We sat there, like useless fish waiting to be swallowed. This among other things made me leave the human world.
The spit I had to politely wipe from my face, when all I wanted to do was crack his neck like a twig. It was a thread snapping deep in my mind. A string of humiliations, that never seemed to end. I retreated to the woods after that... Until the laughter no longer rang in my ears. I was an animal coming home. Where the branches whack each other in the wind. No conflict just survival.
The flies picked at my skin as I waded through the bog. This path was mapped somewhere deep inside me. Somnambulantly wading deeper into the slush. I knew where I needed to be.
A kestrel swooped down to greet me its talons grazing whisps of my hair. It was looking for a small helpless thing. But I had already grown too strong for its grasp. I left the bog, a trail of freshly churned watery mud behind me. A path disturbed by my presence.
It would heal.
Blackberry vines wrapped around my arms; this is my armour for the Forrest. As I entered small saplings poked between my toes. I fed them with salty drops of sweat. I Crouched for a moment to admire their delicate new shoots.
This was no time to dwell on things. I continued deeper.
If you keep moving into the engorged wildness eventually it will stop you. This is where the forest wants you to be....
You will be pricked and stung if you follow a path that is not meant for you, and it will be your fault for straying. I was welcomed inside.... The trees parted their branches to let me in. They knew I was hurt; the nettles knew to caress me gently and save their venom for someone else. They knew I was bleeding. A wounded animal coming home to die, seeking a bed of leaf litter.
I crawled sniffing for sustenance. I was led to a clearing by the sweet smell of wild garlic. They grew up towards me handing me their leaves to take. The leaves and stems fed me until I no longer had a human appetite.
I buried myself in the leaf litter ready for my hibernation. I sunk deep. The dampness becoming me. The earth blurred into me until we became quare and indistinguishable from one another. A sap embedded in my skin. The thorns wrapping around me - tighter.
I did not need to breathe anymore.
I was welcomed into the network. My nerves fusing with the wisdom of the Forrest. Rings of wood grew around us with every year. Protecting us from outside. We made caverns for tired animals to rest in. And traps for those that would disturb the new shoots. We needed to protect the vulnerable or else we would not survive.
Skeaghs grew high around our shoulders to bolster us. We spread rumors of the fairy trees and the bad luck that would become those who entered without consent. The Piteogs and Faries retreated to us for rest. They hid their treasures beneath the mound and hosted gatherings in the clearings. They danced rings into the soil and played music. Birds nested in the ancient hedgerows deep in the forest. We protected them with our thorny arms. Holding their young until they fledged the nest.
We became stronger expanding into the city. We grew ivy through cracks and crevices in chimney breasts. Tearing down buildings from the inside. Taking up the space that had been neglected, the space that always was ours.
We will continue growing towards the sun, reaching out
To hold you, just a little too tightly.
Photo credit: Chloe Austin
Photo credit: Chloe Austin
