March 03, 2003 11:05 AM
Yesterday at Castello di Rivoli which houses the Contemporary Art Museum and most notably the work of Maurizio Cattelan, a voice became clear as I walked alone through the rooms. I saw that I can endure half-life with the knife in my back or I can wrap my hand around, open my eyes, pull it out and take my life back. Later that night, I strip and look at my body critically in the bathroom mirror. I perform the ritual. Hair falls off in clumps between my legs and red streaks down. The labia are flushed with blood. This act has its own satisfaction, yet when I lay in bed, I grieve from the very center for the loss of his touch.