Molly Devine

RS: In what ways have you experienced touch, or how has touch changed for you through the pandemic?
MD: The entirety of the pandemic, my main source of touch has been from medical professionals treating my worsening Endometriosis. I haven’t really wanted to be touched once I’m not at the doctors, even by my spouse and loved ones. With so many sterile, scary hands touching me, seeing and manipulating my most vulnerable spots, I have found myself avoiding touch of any kind.


RS: How do you define and or understand resilience as it relates to owning an identity that is marginalized?
MD: Resilience as a chronically ill, queer, neurodivergent person means existing daily in a world determined to leave you out. It’s choosing to occupy space and make your own table when there isn’t a seat at the table for you.


RS: How does Austin play a role in your experience of touch and or resiliency?MD: Being a part of a community of queer filmmakers and artists in Austin has allowed me to surround myself with people who understand the fight I face daily. Within an industry designed by a capitalist patriarchy, I have found my core of people more concerned with the contents of ones heart than their title on the call sheet. Pregnant people, working parents, single queers with chronic illnesses; we show up to make the shows people watch, declaring that we deserve a place in the world of filmmaking, too.


RS: What was your experience in creating your skin prints? 
MD: Making my skin prints allowed me to connect with my first laparoscopy scars weeks before my body changes and acquires a set of new laparoscopy scars on June 29th. I’m getting ready for my second invasive surgery for endometriosis in under a year and I’ve been disassociating from my body because I don’t trust it anymore. My body is attacking itself and I have felt completely out of control of my own skin, so taking a moment to intentionally connect with it was sacred and healing. It was a private moment between my body and I where I finally stopped to appreciate it for keeping me alive, despite its illnesses. After all, this skin is my home.


RS: Where on your body did you choose to create your prints from? Why were/are these spots important to you?
MD: I captured each of my pelvic laparoscopy scars, left and right. They signify so much, but most importantly they remind me that I’m human, a soft, tender, scarred human and that trauma isn’t always invisible.