past\trace

archive, who i was, imprint, fragments that survived, memory fills the gaps

chunky soup

sit and feed the baby to sleep. here in my home town again. like black, slimy tendrils wrap me tight in the sweet whisper of what’s familiar. a boomerang zombie town that i keep coming back to. i googled an old acquaintance recently, we once shared hostel bunk beds and drank too much wine in Venice together. she’s a senior associate at a law firm now. i was scrolling instagram and saw another old acquaintance from my parlour days got signed by a gallery. their paintings are really lovely. i think of my thirty years here and all that i have achieved and how it feels like doing nothing at all. i write instagram posts few people read. i wonder if i will ever be as glamorous and well put together as i’ve always dreamed of being. once upon a time i wanted to be a surgeon. really though i’m not sure what i ever wanted. a young woman from my past, who i’ve known since she was born died by suicide recently, i went to her funeral. everyone said how loved and loving she was. in between striving for fame and feeding the baby i wonder what the fuck i’m doing. the chunky soup of post-30 single motherhood.

thirty one

birthday, 2024

self published book. available for purchase here →

in-in-sanitarium

(Ilona Nelson ~ In-sanitarium)

mother dissolves into pile of cereal, photographed by mother dissolving into picture of mother dissolving somehow the men insert themselves yet again