Analysis

Upon exiting the stair case on the third floor of harder hall lay a female surrounded by pieces of paper with three bricks on top of her with a piece of paper attached with two rubber-bands. Each piece of paper read of someone's deepest secrets. Most of the papers appeared to have the same hand writing, which at first made me understand this piece to be the performer's personal experiences and secrets. Upon further investigation, I observed other fashions of hand writing. The girl, though everyone surrounded her and invaded this space, she lay calmly with her eyes closed and minimal movement.
I began to become consumed with the thoughts of these people. Who put these bricks on her? Why would someone apply this weight to her body with their secrets while others carefully placed them around her? I began to realize that there was no point wondering whom these thoughts belonged to but rather the repetative aspect of these people's situations. These people have walked these hallways where I stood and I would never have known they carried these lives. Her body began to transform in my eyes from a personal history to a center of Alfred documentation that opened my eyes to the pain and weight we all carry; a history book measured without labels, unorganized thoughts that weighed on her as if she were to preserve and house them from the world.
My involvement with this piece remained distant. I felt comfortable and curious of others thoughts but felt blocked from sharing my own; what if people saw what I had to write? Do I really feel okay about adding weight to her body knowing that she has to endure this for three hours? I couldn't bring myself to reveal my own true secrets, but I felt connected to her through some of what others had written that were also a part of my life. This piece might have been originally intended to be a drop of of thoughts for those whom sought a temporary relief from their lives, but for me, instead of unloading, I adopted the understanding that I'm not alone.