32 Hours

This photo features the door of
the art closet I was exiled to
during my project. During that
time I experienced some of the
strongest emotions I've ever
felt. In all honesty they weren't
all pleasant. To you this is a
door. To me this is the gateway
to my own personal section of
hell.

This photo features the area I set
up to mirror solitary confinement.
An ordinary simple bathroom that
seemingly seems a bit barren.
However, in the longer I look at this
image the more and more I realize
how this room tortured me mentally.
The make shift solitary tricked me
into believing I deserved this. That
I was somehow locking myself here
as penance. I began to second
guess myself, and before long I
was analyzing my life trying to
recall all the bad I've done. This
chamber of isolation was my
punishment. For what? Only time
will tell.

As I sat in exile I tried many
different things to pass the
time. This string was not only
a source of hope, but was
something that would
become a tool in venting my
emotions. The more and more
I thinned the yarn the smaller
and weaker the original string
became. However, I kept
pulling refusing to stop until
the yarn was alone isolated, it
was only until I finished that I
realized what I had done. The
yarn had become a part of
me. A self reflection into my
mind as I see Nathan.

The simple inconvenience of
breaking your pencil tip is nothing
more then that. An inconvenience.
However, I've found that when you
throw yourself into isolation little
things can throw your mood in
strange directions. This can mean
good things like finding hope in a
piece of yarn, or in this case turning
an inconvenience into a major
frustration. The constant breaking
and sharpening actually made me
insane. I continued to sharpen the
pencil expecting it to work. Wanting
it to write, but it didn't. Every time I
broke the tip. It was a tragedy.

This photo probably means the
most to me. During my 32
hours of isolation loneliness set
in faster than I'd like to admit.
During my exile I found a glove
with no thumb. I don't know
what sparked it but for some
reason I connected this to my
friends without me. Even
though my isolation was just an
experiment I honestly felt the
impact. A normal glove that is
seemingly worthless became
the strings that held me to all of
my friends.