when i presented this project i struggled to find the words for this piece and i still do. that’s the way of our existence. trying to communicate things beyond the amount of weird sounds we have to describe it.

at the time i was feeling trapped, like i was drowning in a lake that was frozen over, trying to punch through a thick layer of ice. i was so cold and numb. totally detached from my body. i spent a lot of that time floating in another space watching myself move through the world screaming at myself to stop but my lungs would just fill up with murky water instead.

i felt like the voyeur. like a creep in my own life. spying on my every move. never safe, never alone. always watching and always being watched. i couldn’t shower.

running and swimming and walking, always moving. never stopping. if i stopped i might be somewhere and i didn’t want to be anywhere.

the words voyager and voyeur are next to each other in the dictionary and for some reason i really like this idea. i like how fucked up it is that someone can hate their body so much that it makes them sick and yet there’s still some dude who wants to jerk off to it. i haven’t quite stretched the red thread all the way between these two characters but they exist side by side in my mind. there’s the sailor at the helm tearing through unknown waters with a wind-whipped face and a calloused grip from years of holding on to the raw ropes. followed closely behind by the weirdo in the dinghy laughing maniacally waiting in ecstatic pleasure for him to capsize.

how do the voyager and voyeur play in your mind?