Bedtime Stories is a diptych that reflects on the quiet ache of longing—for innocence, for safety, for what was lost and perhaps never fully possessed. On the left panel, I affixed feathers to my arm with bandages, a gesture that suggests both injury and transformation. The feathers evoke wings once had—or imagined—and the desire to reclaim flight. My arm reaches outward, suspended in a moment between falling and grasping, memory and fantasy.
Juxtaposed with this gesture is the image of an empty bed, reflected in a window. The bed stands as a symbol of childhood, vulnerability, and the unseen narratives shaped in silence. It is not merely a space for rest, but a site of rupture and unresolved memory. Bedtime Stories draws from personal mythology to explore how trauma is absorbed into the body and how the stories we tell ourselves in the dark shape what we come to believe.
This piece is part of Every Woman and Nobody, an ongoing series investigating the intersections of trauma, embodiment, and unconscious memory
