I shot a short video while waiting for a train over the weekend. It was an impromptu “I guess I could entertain myself for a while” type of situation. Also, there was beautiful music echoing through the subway halls. I was genuinely taken by an opportunity…
So I want to talk about why I decided to title it “Shapes.” Yes, there are shapes in the video, but only because they embellish an overall idea.
For me, art is representative of the stages in our lives. In my opinion, one’s art doesn’t have to be “refined,” or “good,” or “dope,” to be valuable. It doesn’t need to be regimented, or practiced a million times to be worth doing. Expression exists to filter our experience. Of course, intention is the important part, right? Practice is necessary depending on your intention. When you strive to let your art speak on it’s own to others, time is required. But I digress.
Authenticity speaks volumes.
This is where I get so stuck as an “artist;” am I just lazy? Probably so. But for now, where I am in my life, vulnerability is my art. Letting moments live and breathe, is my art.
So with that being said, I want to talk about why I decided to title it “Shapes.”
It’s pretty cliche, really.
As I played it back, I was disappointed in myself.
“I don’t like how my body looks.”
Shapes.
I winced at the rolls of my stomach, they seemed to be the only detail of the footage that I could see. I’m still adjusting to this body. I’ve changed drastically over the past few years… this happens when you are a woman. Yet, thanks to outside influences, natural changes in the body are not always easy to navigate. Whether you’re shamed, sexualized, or celebrated, the tone is always the same.
Shapes.
I wake up every day striving to be body positive. I nod at myself in the mirror; a salute, a commitment.
“Tell yourself the truth until it becomes the truth.”
Confidence is learned.
Shapes.
Each and every woman has experienced the trials and tribulations of body image. Sometimes, our frustration is so great that we amplify the insecurities of others. Regardless of the body, the shape, especially the bodies of those we may envy… We must remember to be kind, not only to ourselves but to each other. We each have our own stories, locked deep in the temple that houses our soul.
Your shape is a reflection of your moment. Your moment is a reflection of your existence.

My body is a reflection of acceptance; a lesson I will study for a lifetime. My movement is a reflection of the way I delegate my time, a reflection of my travels, a reflection of rest and regeneration. The shapes, a reflection of an ongoing journey, building beauty in myself rather than the standard. Sharing this video? A reflection of my inner studies; trusting that my body performs beautifully, exactly how I need it to (for what I request of it today). My writing, a memory.
If my shape is a reflection of the moment, and the moment is a reflection of my existence, well, I believe I already have the control I seek. Moments are moldable, from one to the next, just as our bodies and minds.
And through this process of pondering, I see I am no longer just a shape.
I am woman; Shapeshifter.