Grief does not occur in textbook stages; it is as quiet as a storm. Always brewing, sometimes arriving without notice, a storm has the ability to take out many people on its path of destruction. My recent experience with grief and trauma has been critically life-altering. I remain unable to speak of much else, or to make work of other topics. Losing my partner so unexpectedly, and at such a young age has been paralyzing like nothing else I can imagine. I use my practice to voice my experience, to demonstrate how I feel when words do not seem capable or up to the task. Illuminating others of the unthinkable fear, the unbearable pain, and the journey of making it back to the world of the living. When there is no readily available language to do so, I find myself here. I am still waiting for the latter, though my art is the way that I chose to be led back.

The performance entitled “‘I’m So Sorry’” is a commentary on the inability for grief language to perform in times of immense bereavement. Going through a loss of such an immense magnitude, I felt isolated and without a language to express myself. Sharing my story felt like the only way that I could relieve some of the solitude and pain that I was feeling. In this specific piece I use the phrase “I am so sorry,” which is one of many phrases that I heard over and over again from people who tried to comfort me. It felt like the more I heard this phrase, the less and less it held any meaning. The stick that I use in the performance is meant to serve as a type of prosthetic. I was thinking about how prosthetics are used to help people when they are experiencing a great loss. When first fitted, the prosthetic hurts and though it is meant to be helpful, can often cause more pain and creates further struggles. The stick also makes writing this phrase over and over again increasingly difficult. The phrase turns from legible writing into an abstraction. I found through my experience that the grief process is still very much taboo in our culture. You are meant to grieve quickly and in silence. I reject this norm and continue to share my story, trying to reach those who have also experienced a devastating loss.