It was reported that this bride’s lover forwent the altar and thus she attempted to forgo her life. A man caught her just as she jumped. Her life was saved. There are so many whose lives are pricked and suddenly gone. Yet she hung there like a reticent ornament. She hung there like a disembodied snowflake awaiting the earth’s warmth to do her away. But, one single hand moved toward her salvific dress despite the clear sign of, “I’m done.” One single hand impulsively moved toward her with some semblance of conviction that life is worth living. What is this instinct? Both towards life and death?
These are the moments I want to recreate. The thread, which hangs you into life, offending your need for tragedy. Or the last thread you attempt to cut, which dangles you over death, offending your biology to survive. Not to trivialize this woman’s experience or expression, but I immediately envisioned a performance art piece in which a series of women hang out of a window, grasped for and saved by not only a few men, but pastors, mothers, fathers, therapists or representations of drugs, disorders and addictions. All salve, for better or for worse. All things we try and escape, for better or for worse. There is too much to be said about this depiction, too many meanings to derive from and that is why this image, for me, is terribly poignant.
The photo came from this site.