I always carry a soft silk bag with me. It cuts my pocket and it gets tangled in it, it scratches my skin subtly, so I will never forget that it is there. What do I hide in it? There’s nothing to hide, I will open it for you: it is filled with shards. If you were to stick them all with glue, you would have my shape back together, but with cracks. Why don’t I struggle to find some glue strong enough to keep me from breaking? Or why don’t I use gold like the Japanese to make a “more beautiful” shape of myself?
What good would it do to anyone? I would only be a stunning picture in a gallery, useless, memorable for a day or two, pointless to remember afterwards.
What I choose to do it to not stick myself back together. I use my shards to amplify or redirect rays of sunlight, to guide people to get out of the darkest pitfalls.
I stick my fragments secretly where people have cracks that cannot be filled, where they have lost a part of themselves. I reshape my pieces so they can fit anywhere!
I make lenses or corneas out of my clearest pieces. I replace the anatomical ones from people’s eyes, so they can see the world beyond their own walls, so they can see underneath other people’s skin. They also absorb the tears you see, they are tear-proof, as they are half made out of tears.
That is what I do with my pieces, I am no longer myself – I am everyone. And that is all right.