ARTIST STATEMENT
The longest relationship I’ve been in has been with my body, and no matter how well I clothed her, it was her bare appearance that rattled me most. Our relationship is so complicated that, in moments where I deprived her of intimacy, touch, and acknowledgment for so long, I then allowed her to overindulge in whatever she saw fit. This was an attempt to overcompensate for my own negligence (or at the very least an attempt to rid myself of all the things I’d ever been told about my body in an instant). My lack of empathy for her made me not only incapable of loving her but also made me skeptical of anyone who did. That led to years of holding in sadness and repressed anger.
“The Anatomy of Flesh and Bones,” in short, is a project centered around our relationship with our bodies and how it shapes our perception of the world. As someone who has always existed in a fat body, I’ve been hyper-aware of the space I occupy, constantly moving, swaying, to avoid being fully seen. However, as I get older, I seek the freedom you supposedly get to experience when you recognize that your body is merely flesh, skin, and bones.
I’m not sure if I will ever experience the luxury of existing as a fat, black woman without societal constraints. But I do know that my body, our bodies, are tools of expression, physical manifestations of love, and should be documented as such.
ABOUT THE ARTIST
Born and raised in Memphis, TN, motion has always influenced my perception. There is a particular way that Black folks exist in Memphis—a particular way they show love, gather, express and even sit still. The people there cherish the remnants of what we have left behind and forgotten, all while embodying all the things we seem to be constantly running from. My work revolves around capturing and creating moments that tell their stories, my story, by romanticizing the mundane and the moments in between action. By blurring the boundaries between still and moving images, I aim to create a body of work that reflects the range of my voice, by creating small, intimate worlds that require us to re-write ourselves in.
© A.C. Bullard