Location: Walled City
Duration: 10 Mins

I was born with veins spreading across the skin on my cheeks, like branches// very visible. The girls in my class were disquieted because of them, said my skin was too thin, and things inside me shouldn't be so loud. But I found my veins to be the loudest when my body grew sick, turning deep blue and poignant. I remained sick for years. My veins remained blue. 
I found solace in the blue of my branches, and also in the brown of the branches in the space around me. I talked to trees instead of 9th grade girls because a tree listened and a tree understood. I underwent surgeries. I dropped out of school. I found myself impregnated by grief, and giving birth to loss. My performance was thus, a calm disruption of sorts. Something very close to my heart. An interpretation of the my experiences, a reliving of trauma.