16 Flicker Hill Rd, Upstate New York
I spent 3 nights in Upstate New York in a cabin in the woods. It was so silent, save for the wind in the trees and the chipmunks squeaking happily to one another. Living in the city, it is easy to forget what silence sounds like, to forget how dark the night becomes when there are no streetlights to illuminate the sidewalk. Forget how it feels to wake up to the sun and not groan and dread the upcoming day. I felt more at peace than I had in a very long time. And yet, at the same time, I felt apprehensive, because of the inevitable reality that soon I would have to return to the city, return to work, return to my responsibilities. And so I tried to imagine what kind of person would live there, what would it look like to inhabit this quiet corner in the forest? I imagined an anonymous figure, moving through the space as though stuck in a dream state. There are no signs of another inhabitant, and you never see her face. She seems to be on the verge of collapse. Fragile, yet still grounded. Someplace between here and there, never fully awake.
Through her body language, the viewer gains insight into the state of mind she’s in. While her surroundings appear peaceful and relaxing, she remains trapped within her internal battles. In so doing this, I am trying to juxtapose the external with the internal, emphasizing the separation that can occur between the body and its surroundings during depressive and/or dissociative episodes. Here, the structure of the house itself creates a barrier between her and the outside world. A real and imaginary prison. What does one do when they are alone and trapped in their own mind? What does that look like, feel like?