Studio Obtuse / Neha Mishra
------------------------------------------------------------
Etchings On Flesh
-------------------------------------------------------
[ Performances happened at the RCA Show2023 held at Truman Brewery, Brick Lane, London, every day from the 13th to 16th of July. Done as a part of the Independent Research Project at the Royal College of Art, 2023. ]
I made the costume entirely manually over three months.
[Performance]
Wait hey could you wait for a minute I need to catch my breath I need to hold on to something hold on to myself hold myself together I have to hold my head in place and the sense of place with it and hold my balance on this hurtling carousel of blinding thought and my grip might give and I might fall back float my way to the ground in painful slow motion and spill and fill everything up give me a minute I need to suck in my flesh and gulp down the guilt of a cookie and a half and focus on the day ahead a day of talk about how I should talk about what it is like to not talk and only listen to words the words of love words that stick on my skin words that have slivers that stay in my skin and make it sore and blue and all too visible words that when peeled off tear up the skin they leave bruises that seep down into memory and reflex words that stick on the tongue and blister my throat and make the thorns on the walls grow out a little bit more each time I stop to catch my breath I think it is the eyes yes hear me out I think it is their eyes that make movement an exercise in embodying shame for me shame are my clothes eating into the flesh leaving marks that turn into curves each day a little more to me shame is breathing a whole breath shame is each word of self-deprecating humour that the bullies feed on and shame is the laugh that I serve before they can drown me in smirks and side-eyed silent whispers of words that only make them laugh words that have only ever meant nothing to them or meant to them something that is only said with vile eyes I don’t think shame is the word oh no I think hate is the word and hate is not born it is only passed on and hate reeks it reeks of words the words that you think would fix me but what they only ever do is break my spirit and break my bones words that sometimes leave me so hollow that I’m nothing but flesh and bones and skin so wait hey could you wait for a minute I want you to stand with me for a second don’t run ahead of me please walk at my pace for a minute see my fist is clenched so tight as I hold on to the here and now I might pierce my nails through my skin as I would try to talk to you one more time but all talk would now deceive me and as blood would run down my palm dripping in songlike slow motion and spill and fill everything up my manic manic mind might see choking amounts of sparkles and hope leaking out for I have never let hope die out you see I’ve always hoped for neon skies leaking out of my eyes even though you only saw my skin and bulk and flesh was all I was to you so I will tear up more and more of myself till you drown in the rainbows that ooze out and I might tear up more and more of myself till you will laugh a hearty laugh and watch me dance in all that unashamed-unapologetic-unending-all-enveloping hope till we see the same light a neon light a light in which you and I are the same and you hold my bleeding palm and meet my welled-up eyes and see me follow the neon light take you to a place where the swell of soul and stance happens alike where touch is soft and words are kind but hey, could you wait for a minute, I need to catch my breath.
[description]
“The fear of being fat is the fear of joining an underclass that you have so readily dismissed, looked down on, looked past, or found yourself grateful not to be a part of. It is the fear of being seen as slothful, gluttonous, greedy, unambitious, unwanted, and, most of all, unlovable.” -Aubrey Gordon
Etchings On Flesh is about how words leave marks on our bodies. It’s about taking a minute to consider how the act of anonymising and dismissing the fat experience has a crushing effect on a person’s perception of self.
The project is also an acknowledgement of the torment we go through, behind closed doors, away from the world, often in front of a mirror. The mirrors around us have been witness to more body dysmorphia than any therapist in the world.
“ Self-hatred is only ever a seed planted from outside in. But when you do that to a child it becomes a weed so thick and it grows so fast, the child doesn’t know any different. It becomes as natural as gravity. ” -Hannah Gadsby
Empathy is the foundation of my creative practice. I believe words come with responsibility, and that kindness and authentic inclusion, which comes not as a trend but as an inherent value system, is an absolute necessity.
{more details about the project}
Photos by:
Vivek Jangid
Abodid Sahoo
Basil Paulo