|Self-portrait at 13 Boulder Colorado 1972, notice that her|
left hand is holding a cable linked to the camera (Wikipedia)
|from Space series Rhode Island 1977|
Last night I dreamed a dream that washed like a wave too close to reality. I carry it still into the white afternoon. The snow has fallen, the sun shines on the dust making a brightness one cannot comfortably look at for long. Out the window the shadow of trees fall on the shed, crosshatch of limbs.
|Untitled Rome 1977-78|
|Space 2 Rhode Island 1975-76|
I am drawn to these photos but also repelled by them. I feel more and more wordless the longer I look at them. Disquietude. A nude woman stuffed into a museum case, her breasts pushed against the glass, her hand, half a flower and the other outside, holding, hugging around. This is her take on womanhood. What a young girl feels. I could never reveal or expose my body in this way as a young girl but there was a desire to. As though there might be a way around the culturally imposed self-hatred of women. Perhaps the only cure is age, denied to Francesca
|Untitled New York 1979-80|
Parts of the body. Severed. There is a sexuality here. I am reminded of freshman comp, learning about advertising schemes that used women's body parts I am reminded of high school and feeling the full power of my sexuality. Not understanding, terrified and yet oddly liberated. The body is broken down into parts. I am reminded of cleaning liquor bottles at a waitressing job. There was a conversation between me, the male bar tender, and the old man owner about sexism which ended with him--the owner of course--telling me to dust liquor bottles.
|Untitled Rhode Island 1975-78|
|Untitled Stanwood Washington Summer 1979|
Two women in a game of hide-and-seek.
Two women standing in prayer.
Two women blending into the forest.
Two women wearing old dresses.
It is almost 1980.
She could not have known
that she would leap
from a window
at the terribly