Fragmentation and continuation surface—unsuspectingly consistent through my attempt to piece together some definition of the force surrounding and within me. A thing for which I have no language to articulate.

The way that I tend to understand panic feels synonymous with distorted and unsettling, nonsensical imagery—bludgeoned fruit, submissive colors. In this place, sleep becomes a weapon, and exhaustion—my antagonizer. In December of 2021, I wrote, “I’m stuck on the word suffocation, which is inaccurate… but I think I can better describe the experience of panic visually.”

It started with my journal—which I used to piece together a list of questions, outlining personal experience. My internal dialogue became a tool for understanding others’. These conversations allowed me to take my own experience and find out how it relates to theirs, thus constructing a story altogether, despite collaborating individually with each person.

These photos serve merely as a progress point, capturing the very-early stages of a project still evolving.