Hello everyone!
My name is Enjolie, I'm a student at St. Lawrence University. This semester I participated in the second performance of Krista's SYE, Untitled, and I wanted to share some of my experiences.
During the performance, I barely talked. I stood still next to my partner, pointed at the paint, handed people brushes, and if they painted, gave them a lollipop and card about the blog. With all this, you can imagine that quite a few people were confused. They didn't know what we were doing there, what we wanted them to do, or where we wanted them to do it. One guy figured out the point of it perfectly, though. He walked over to us and said, "What are you doing?" I pointed to the posters explaining what to do. "Can't you talk?" I shook my head. He picked up a brush and blue paint and started to contemplate what he was going to paint...aloud, as you do when you are the only one speaking. There were a lot of ums and uhs, but finally it hit him: "I know what I'm going to do, because everyone needs more of this." He began to paint on my hip, then moved over and painted a matching image on my partner. "There," he said breathlessly, after he completed his masterpiece, "because everyone needs to smile." Before him were two blue smiley faces, and matching ones on our faces. Without knowing it, he exemplified what this project was all about: leaving your mark on others and how that influences them.
One of my friends did something even better. He was one of the first people to pass by. Once he picked up a brush, he knew exactly what to do. “I know! I’ll put your name on your back so people know who you are!” He proceeded to write ENJ across my shoulders. This, to me, was the epitome of the drawings on our bodies. A name is something we are given at birth. It defines us through life, shapes who we are, and usually never leaves us. When my friend painted my name, I spent most of the next few hours contemplating how my name changed my life and my interactions that were started because of it. I have had people compliment my name, sing the jingle that accompanies the perfume of the same name, struggle intensely to pronounce it; all of these things built up and helped shape me into someone who adores their name. And it all started with my parents writing it down on a piece of official paper—just like how my friend wrote it on my back.
My name is Enjolie, I'm a student at St. Lawrence University. This semester I participated in the second performance of Krista's SYE, Untitled, and I wanted to share some of my experiences.
During the performance, I barely talked. I stood still next to my partner, pointed at the paint, handed people brushes, and if they painted, gave them a lollipop and card about the blog. With all this, you can imagine that quite a few people were confused. They didn't know what we were doing there, what we wanted them to do, or where we wanted them to do it. One guy figured out the point of it perfectly, though. He walked over to us and said, "What are you doing?" I pointed to the posters explaining what to do. "Can't you talk?" I shook my head. He picked up a brush and blue paint and started to contemplate what he was going to paint...aloud, as you do when you are the only one speaking. There were a lot of ums and uhs, but finally it hit him: "I know what I'm going to do, because everyone needs more of this." He began to paint on my hip, then moved over and painted a matching image on my partner. "There," he said breathlessly, after he completed his masterpiece, "because everyone needs to smile." Before him were two blue smiley faces, and matching ones on our faces. Without knowing it, he exemplified what this project was all about: leaving your mark on others and how that influences them.
One of my friends did something even better. He was one of the first people to pass by. Once he picked up a brush, he knew exactly what to do. “I know! I’ll put your name on your back so people know who you are!” He proceeded to write ENJ across my shoulders. This, to me, was the epitome of the drawings on our bodies. A name is something we are given at birth. It defines us through life, shapes who we are, and usually never leaves us. When my friend painted my name, I spent most of the next few hours contemplating how my name changed my life and my interactions that were started because of it. I have had people compliment my name, sing the jingle that accompanies the perfume of the same name, struggle intensely to pronounce it; all of these things built up and helped shape me into someone who adores their name. And it all started with my parents writing it down on a piece of official paper—just like how my friend wrote it on my back.