I think a lot about the differences between being visible and being seen. They look the same (pun intended), but they also have differences.

In December 2021, I created a performance and installation space at 7 Stages called All Bodies Welcome. The space had nude photos (shared with consent, always) of a range of bodies, mirrors, graphics from Dutch sex ed books, fake blood, super inclusive tarot decks, and even a custom soundtrack produced by me.

The performance element was that I gave tarot mini readings. Topless.
(I mean, I had an open-front lace robe, but it matched my skin tone.)

Less than 2 months later, I had a photo shoot with Emerald Dove Photography.

Only one of these experiences brought me to tears, repeatedly. And it wasn't the one with partial nudity for an audience. I absolutely went to pieces—multiple times—before and during this photoshoot.

The absurd is true: I was terrified and shed a lot of tears about being in photos while wearing pajamas, but totally fine not wearing a top while reading tarot to a hundred or so strangers.

Being visible. Being seen.

We live in a world of hypervisibility, and it's easy to take that hypervisibility for granted. That it's the same as being seen, truly, for who you are.

In my experience, it's important to know the nuances and choose your ways of being visible and being seen. We live in a world where others will tell your story for you, if you don't claim it.

I want to show up courageously. I don't mean this in blustering bravado or an absence of fear. If anything, I often have an abundance of fear.

I mean actual courage, that the root of "courage" means "heart." I want love to conquer fear, knowing that inevitably I will make mistakes. So I strive to show up with a lot of love, compassion, and vulnerability. Hopefully those are both visible and seen.

I share this along with a photo that has a bigger back story than meets the eye. I can tell that I was crying right before this photo was taken, even if you can't. I was terrified to create this image, but in sharing it, I'm in that delightful overlap of being visible and being seen.

Thank you for seeing me.