Project
"You should just sit out today." "Group 2 totally ruined the game." These weren't words of encouragement. They built a version of me trapped by expectations. After I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, the words changed, but they still left their mark. "I'm so tired of taking these meds." "So… does this mean I could die?" I collected the phrases that triggered my anxiety and pressed them along the edges of the acrylic board. The whole piece is shaped like a shuttle run track, each back-and-forth motion marking another attempt to scrape away the pain. But even when I try to erase everything, there are always traces. The anxiety remains. And yet, the repetition becomes momentum. If I can't erase the pain, I can keep running. Making this piece taught me that I had always moved forward, even when those words lingered. The pressure exists in different forms, and it still demands more from me. But I now understand that the phrases that hurt me are also what push me to keep going.