Celina Zisman
RS: In what ways have you experienced touch, or how has touch changed for you through the pandemic?
CZ: I became a new mom right before the pandemic. Like everyone, we became completely isolated and were immediately cut off from the support systems we built around us. All we had was each other; newly minted parents feeling out their way in the dark with this new life form that was completely reliant on us. Our village of veteran parents could only advise from afar, or leave meals on our stoop. No hugs, no calming tenderness through sweet touches--just invisible walls that stretched higher and wider than we could scale.
We were deprived of touch from our outer circle, but we poured everything into our little trio. Breastfeeding, and all the trials of a newborn, bring with it a whole new world of touch and dependency. We leaned in. We were each other's whole world, and touch became such a savored gift (and means of survival) that we could give to one another.
RS: How do you define and or understand resilience as it relates to owning an identity that is marginalized?
CZ: I just heard someone say, "You can't talk about resilience, without talking about 'the shit'," (quote by Meredith Howard). I think that is a pretty excellent, albeit simplified, description of what goes into claiming resilience. If you're going to claim resilience, then there is an inherent understanding that your experience includes hardship or challenges that were overcome. I feel like that goes hand in hand with being anything but Cis, white, or male.
RS: How does Austin play a role in your experience of touch and or resiliency?
CZ: Austin's creative community has demonstrated such amazing resilience. SO many organizers banded together (for both the pandemic and snow storm). It seems to be the artists, musicians, activists that take it upon themselves to create the safety net for the community, and it's incredibly inspiring.
RS: What was your experience in creating your skin prints?
CZ: Experiencing pregnancy, birth, healing....I've developed a very intimate connection with my body, one that is still evolving. Creating the prints felt like a very kind thing to do for my body. A snapshot of the present point in my transformation through motherhood.
RS: Where on your body did you choose to create your prints from? Why were/are these spots important to you?
CZ: The newest skin on my body is on my stomach, specifically the mounds of the torso that surround the Linea Negra, or the mid-line that runs from the breastbone to the pelvis. It's a line that emerges as you descend deeper into pregnancy. Once the baby was earth-side, this area of my body needed the most time to find its way back to its original form. Today the flesh is loose and soft. My belly is no longer symmetrical; it is a landscape of rolling hills and valleys, shaped by time and the elements. It still holds the memory of a little human growing, pushing, stretching, from the inside.