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Bird Watching
This project explores a feminist interpretation of the male gaze, intertwining it with the fleeting nature of time. The dark feminine is embodied in a haunting encounter with a dead seagull. In the bitter cold of an English January around 4 degrees Celsius we severed a deceased seagulls wings. Bundled in coats, scarves, and gloves, we faced the unforgiving seaside winds as we crafted a series of evocative images.
The photographs capture a transient, dreamlike quality, a moment suspended between reality and imagination. At first glance, one might believe they’ve witnessed an angel, but the truth reveals a deeper, darker complexity. The ethereal figure is not a celestial being but a woman enduring the harsh elements, her strength mirrored in the juxtaposition of beauty and brutality. With two seagull wings strapped to her back, she embodies resilience, challenging both the viewer’s gaze and societal constructs.
The air is thin,
Red and white surround us in soft fabrics.
We sit gossiping like telephone wires.
Me and you.
Under a stormy sky, which you see as blue.
My skin, under white light,
reveals gashes from a brush.
You are kind to me,
yet your iris stains my freshly washed clothes.
I blame you, for only you can control your gaze.
My soul sinks as you tell me,
"When you bite into a heart, It tastes like nothing".
With shaky hands, I hold a jar.
Red and white, once again.
You hear metal dance against glass,
terrified movements from inside.
When the contradictory colours are lifted.
You say,
"We can’t eat that, it’s spoiled!"
But it doesn't matter anymore.
I pick and pick at the scab.
Once a cut that I wish revealed bone.
The only thing left of our brief encounter,
hoping it’ll scar.