Today I listened to stories I heard about unity and creation and strength. I heard about displacement and the question of home. I listened to someone try to figure out how to describe dreaming, and to someone else talk about the difficulty of finding who they are.
Today I watched someone strip herself down and be. I wrote on her back – three words down her strong spine – and hoped that as she felt the marker press against her skin she would let the words sink in until she believed them. I watched her step up to the camera and let herself be seen and heard. She was beautiful.
I, too, told a story. I stepped up to the camera and felt my heart pounding under my right hand and the heat of my body on my left. The real black words on the backs of my hands reminded me of a made up one that became a calming mantra for me to call upon when I need it.
If a picture is worth a thousand words, then a Dear World picture highlights the most important ones – the simple few that fit on a face or chest or arm; the ones which lie beneath our skin, but which – when in front of the camera – become totally exposed.
For more information on Dear World’s mission and projects, visit: http://dearworld.me/