To Be Safe in our Skin

As a responsive creator investigating the power of Touch, choreographer Karen Kaeja is curious about what we can touch and cannot touch, and what is seen and unseen in public territory. In a raw live-stream performance that is intimate and up close, the presence and harmony of three womxn of different identities address public safety.

Be in your own skin. Safe in your own skin. 
Nov 2020  

To be safe, secure, loving my veil, my skin, my colour, my fur + veils that make me. This skin filled scars holding the body of experiences. This skin blessed and loved by the sun, color de la camela y tierra seca, esta piel mia que me lleva ahi y aqui. This skin that hold some ancestor que no conozco ni recuerdo.  

I am slowly finding the ways to feel safe, the ways to feel whole. The answer I yet don’t have. I feel the need to caress. I caress myself I thank this constantly stretching + shrinking skin. 

— Irma Villafuerte 

To be safe in my skin  

My skin is my protector and sometimes Iashes back. It is unknown to me of its limits, and it itself searches for safety. My insides swish within the scape of its entrapment holding me steady in a destabilized environment. Carrier of self, holder of the mountains within my soul, my skin teaches me I can be.  

— Karen Kaeja 

How do I feel safe in my skin  

-When I am acknowledged  
-When I am seen  
-When I am heard  
-When my concerns are taken seriously  
-When I am held by myself, my loved ones, my community  
-When my work is acknowledged  
-When my family is safe  
-When I am taken care of  
-When I feel healthy  
-When those around me are accountable for their actions  
-When I am accountable for my own 

— Nickeshia Garrick