dima
  • Growing Old

    I don’t like to look at myself. My bellybutton was my favourite part, now it has betrayed me I feel happier when I’m dancing, exploring the new boundaries of my body Stretching its limits Where words end, movement begins.   Growing strange   If this is about sex or death I don’t want to be a part of it I don’t like bigotry and I don’t like loosing my hair Cataracts make me angry. My skin feels as if it’s pulling apart   It’s very uncomfortable   This place is like a village, people love to gossip. I’m most disappointed that I lost my confidence I look longingly at my daughters   What I miss most is the energy.   I don’t like my neck, it makes me look old I wear long sleeves to cover the wrinkles on my arms Ears never stop growing, so I wear earrings   Growing old   There is no alternative, but it still can take you by surprise. Stand tall, be brave.   When I look at you I see beauty and strength I see endurance and tenderness I see stories to be shared.   Text developed from conversation notes with sitters. Thank you to Angela, Anita, Elisa, Lieve, Margaret, Marion and Rosalie for allowing me into your personal space. These images where exhibited at the Age Exchange in Blackheath in collaboration with Soom Company and the Age Exchange.