before

13 x 13 x 3. housed in a handcrafted poplar wood frame. plaster + concrete + sand + oil + ground crystal quartz. 

before you colored in the lines of my most asked questions, i thought my story was one of its own. untamed and unworthy of existing, before i was gifted the knowledge of knowing the thought i had before your enlightenment was a medal of survival. 

before you, 
i was blame. i was small. i was isolated in a self centered existence formed from what I thought was necessary protection, protection from being seen. protection from my own memories. closing the door on her, while hearing her knocking, everyday. 

my thought was, if i never show you where I was, all you’ll know is who stands in front of you. before, you explained to me the community of other woman who held hand in hand marching together to freedom. i thought freedom was simply a formula to attempt forgetting my past. 

she said to me,

“true freedom is allowing us to help you remove your handcuffs that are still holding you to the past, instead of keeping most of you locked up there”. 

i am before • i am after • i am during •

taylor robinson, 2022