Everything I have ever written

Fabric, laser cutter, journal entries from 2013-present

My first performative work was created in response to the cultural, social and linguistic shift I experienced when I left Greece for Boston. Finding myself in a different country, I had to constantly translate my thoughts in my head. At night, I would walk around alone and talk to myself out loud in my native language, just to reassure myself I hadn't forgotten it. Feeling like I couldn't be truly heard or understood, by others and myself, I looked to everything I had ever written in order to find some parts of myself I could have forgotten.

Covered with a semi transparent fabric, I read every single journal entry from 2013- present. Partially concealed, yet simultaneously revealed through the cut out letters, I tear each journal entry from the fabric after I read it-- with every word, more of my bare self is revealed to my audience.

I’ve never had a healthy relationship with words. When I was young, I spoke too fast, my grandma pretended she couldn’t understand. I had to repeat my words slowly at the pace she pleased. As a teenager, I swore too much. My first boyfriend wouldn’t let me swear in front of him, my parents said it wasn’t for girls. When I would write, I misspelled. My mother suggested that I read more to learn how to write but no matter how many books I read I still forget the difference of the two -ε -αι in Greek. I spoke english with a fairly American accent compared to my friends so I was more “foreign” than them. They’d always ask me to say things in english for their amusement. I came to Boston and my english was “outstanding for someone who isn’t from here”. I once said “in and of itself” and this boy made sure to stop me and ask his fellow American friends if they could believe that I knew that phrase. Other times my english is just good enough. I once forgot how to say raise and asked my boyfriend if “they grow pigs in Barcelona”. I called a hat a sock for your head.

Excerpt from journal entry...