Karencita Eliza Aguilar

RS: In what ways have you experienced touch, or how has touch changed for you through the pandemic?
KEA: As a Mexican woman, touch is everything in our culture. We kiss each other on the cheek to greet, and we hug hellos and goodbyes. It's been astronomically different and strange to no longer be able to do these things, especially when I see my parents. I am a part of a culture that is so physically close in family functions and gatherings and I feel disconnected in a way to that since the beginning of the pandemic. During the pandemic, I moved in with my partner and he was the first person I had hugged in months. That hug was one of the most exhilarating feelings I have ever experienced in my life and it made me realize how important touch is to our wellbeing.


RS: How do you define and or understand resilience as it relates to owning an identity that is marginalized?
KEA: Marginalized peoples have to learn adaptability as part of their identity. When faced with factors that label someone as "marginalized", it means that there are constant challenges that attempt to distort those identities. Resilience is the result of keeping oneself true to their culture, history, and identity.


RS: How does Austin play a role in your experience of touch and or resiliency?
KEA: At the beginning of the pandemic when no one was sure what this virus was capable of and everything seemed scary, lots of people in Austin seemed to carry on with parties, gatherings, and not take lock down seriously. Keeping my health issues in mind, this really turned me off from wanting to even leave my apartment. It turned my partner and I into homebodies and we did not interact with any other humans for a time. It made me start fearing the outside and other people, and made me reject the idea of touch. I am incredibly lucky that I have been able to work from home, even though the lack of sunlight and human interaction took a toll on my health, I think it also showed me other ways in which I can be strong and therefore more resilient.


RS: What was your experience in creating your skin prints? 
KEA: I was excited to take part in this project because I have always been a huge fan of sending and receiving things through the mail. When I got the package, I then had to think about which parts of my body to print. I actually had to ponder about my body and the ways in which the pandemic changed it, and how I appreciated my body so much more. As I was doing the transfer, I had thoughts about how intimate capturing the texture of my skin was for me. It is the gift of secondary touch that is part of a culture that I was born into, but that I had been disconnected from.


RS: Where on your body did you choose to create your prints from? Why were/are these spots important to you?
KEA: One spot that I chose was my thigh. Out of everything on my body, my thighs are what changed the most during the pandemic. They became bigger and curvier and it was in a way my saying that I was happy with the change and that I wanted to show them off. To this day, I don't think I have taken a full body photograph of my changed body, because there really hasn't been a reason. Somewhere out there is a print of my new, beautiful, thigh. The second place I chose was my neck. I feel that the skin of my neck is incredibly intimate, and not something that I would share with anyone. However, because we all have been so out of touch with touch, I wanted to share this part of myself as a touch offering.


RS: Is there anything else you’d like to share about your story?
KEA: I have become so timid through the pandemic and have a new layer of shyness that was not quite there before. I have become afraid of the idea of touching others or hugging them when that was so much a part of my social personality. Doing a project such as this, where there could be secondary touch, has really helped ease the idea that I can go back to acquiring that part of my lost self.