![“[…]Her flight made her beautiful. 𝘡𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘳𝘴 stirred her 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. The 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 caressed her 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳. He is 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. He is 𝘮𝘢𝘥 ...](https://img5.gluseum.com/910/839/1230183299108394.jpg)
04/10/2025
“[…]Her flight made her beautiful. 𝘡𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘳𝘴 stirred her 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. The 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 caressed her 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳. He is 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. He is 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. He 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴. She 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘴. He 𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴. He 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 and 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵. Spent, she cries out to her father (useless) and her mother (better). She offers up her 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 and her 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺. No prison worse than his desire. Anything to be free. (Fathers have a way of misunderstanding what mothers do not.)
We are close to her now. (She lets us wants us to see to know.) 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘬 crawls down her arms her torso her thighs like gauntlets like armor like silk. (She suffers in triplicate.) 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 sprout from her fingers. (She twists and writhes and spirals.) She sees him, she 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮. She looks at us. Her hair becomes as 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴.
(So literal, father. So correct and yet so perfectly utterly wrong.)
Rooted, she takes her first and final breath.”
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An excerpt from author Carmen Maria Machado’s essay on Jesse Mockrin's triptych “A story told this many times becomes the forest,” 2025, part of the artist’s Spotlight presentation at The FLAG Art Foundation, on view through May 17, 2025
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Installation view of “Spotlight: Jesse Mockrin” at The FLAG Art Foundation, 2025. Photography by Steven Probert