The loss of an object

Let me, first, tell you about the loss. I am mourning my PhD. Its content, the work, the hardship, my relationship with my supervisor, the safety of its structure, its intensity, everything. I even miss the exam (about which I will tell you some other time, soon). My lost object manifests itself in the most unexpected places. Last night, it was in the dance studio, which was so instrumental in keeping my sanity during the last months. I thought I would start crying and froze in fear at the idea of having to explain what was happening to me. What have I lost, exactly?

I should not be surprised by this phenomenon. I have experienced it many times, with broken hearts and the stopping of my analysis. We all have, more or less. yet, the absence of the love object is always unexpected. I should be feeling relief, joy, pride. I don’t. Not yet, at least.

I don’t know how long this will last, or how I will recover, how my mind and my body (for I feel it in the body, a kind of hollow) will take the decision to move on. There is not much more I can say. The only thing I can do, for the time being, is to keep occupied, carry on as normal, dance from this loss, think about work, talk to people, write, get back to writing here and tell you about the last months of the research.

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Flashing Nipple Remix, #3. 2005
3 black and white transparencies in light boxes.
38 x 48 x 5″ ; Edition of 3 + AP