Laura Friestad
A response to Clayton Lindhorst
A Conversation Between the Body and the Self
You don’t take care of me. You don’t care about me. Everyday you throw yourself into a new task and ignore all I say to you. Can’t you see I’m trying to help you? I’m trying to let you know what you were doing was wrong. I’m trying to tell you to stop. I’m trying to tell you to rest, even if it hurts.
I bleed at you in defiance. I tell you in flashes that you are doing something wrong.
I won’t tell you why. You have to figure out what is right.
Process Notes
Process notes go here.
Many things contributed to the writing of this poem. Of course, the painting itself was the starting point, where the bones and blood were the first thing to stand out to me. I saw a connection between the soul of a person and their body, and wrote a conversation. Despite being forever connected, the mind and the flesh don't always get along. This poem is largely based off of my experiences with gender dysphoria, body image, and depression.
Responses to Clayton Lindhorst's Work
Laura Friestad
