Isabel Yellin


19/9/2016 - 25/9/2016




I think of us as layered. And as most things have this quality, we are unique in that we have two types of layering. We have the physical and we have the emotional. We are one in the other, both moving and shifting and changing constantly. We are morphing.

It is usually quite subtle, this peeling we do. I can add layers to my body, layers to my face, walk out the door down the street onto the subway and off into an unknown night and by the time I see something or someone familiar all that was in me before will be completely different and the thoughts will be off somewhere else in a place equally foreign to my moment right then and there. We are forgetful.

Some things hold on tight and won’t shed so easily - some things that went in deep and fast and shocked our systems. Those can be permanent layers, permanently holding onto us and in us and changing us. Some good some bad. Some get worn down and flake off and fall away and then we feel lighter and freer than we did before. We are uncertain.

There can be a bubbling effect, or a swelling. It can be under the surface, but itching and clawing at you to come out. It can feel like you are about burst if these things don’t get released. We are porous.

What if we were solid, concrete, and never changing? We were as we are and will always be. It would be hideously dull, and confined and stagnant. Our vulnerability makes us beautiful. We are resilient.*


*This all could be taken as an abstract confidence-boosting mantra about the ups and downs of life if need be.