Oh my god. Today. Its real. I’m so over stiffed. Now everything is flowing out. i tried in vein to go to bed. Exhausted from the city doing the disability news and planning all my business. My linked in page is a wreck. Who knew this would be a thing. Ridiculous My life is tied into this online space as if it is a garden community. It’s quite revelling to me that success should depend on such a place. But indeed it does. Which brings me all the way back to my second year at art school where I did the most amazing project i could ever imagine. I’d been drawn downtown to the Union Gallery in 2002 to a very strange and wonderful place. A place where a wedding gown with shredded things emanating was art. I was scared to look at it. I rounded the sculpture at the closing reception. A first year graduation exhibition. Young ones art work is marvellous fresh and raw Marvellous, I formed the word in my mouth keeping my head bent low and my chin tucked into my throat. It is marvellous. I skirt the white ghostly gown, keeping my eyes averted. The floor guiding my steps measuring the appropriate space between the tip of my shoe and the white one under the tattered dress. Eyes cast down i fled, slipped out of the room hearing the wind howelle in my ears. And i saw nothing and heard nothing else searching for my coat on the coatrack loaded with other peoples things.
I found my jacket pulling it down and fled through glass doors to the road.The howling wind bit into my skin. And I bent sharply into the cold of the wet snow laced concrete. Everything change in me. I set my jaw, jammed my fists into my wool lined pockets and sware my rage at the cold! I mumbled fuck, I’ts always so fucking cold here by the lake. The darkness clung and sparked around me. Green street signs with their two small letters glowed a Bithcy yellow.
Hi Everyone. Or no-one. Whatever. I’m Fitch and I do bad art. I identify as disabled and tell stories through my disability lens. My lens has been, is dragged into another world of crip culture. I’m a severely disabled crip cultural producer. My aim is to create/enhance institutional memory through my logo concept disabilityheard. Blarg. But this writing voice of mine is pretty retro weird. Oh well. Maybe i can get an editor.
If you want some CV info on me i also go by Lisa Figge.