Flesh & Fruity
Flesh & Fruit(y) is a series of digital photographic portraits exploring the reckoning of one’s queer identity. Each woman expresses their personal journey towards acceptance of their sexuality through handwritten statements on acrylic sheets hung floating in front of one of their portraits. The portraits are done in tryptic - symbolizing the unity of mind, body and soul. The fruit served as a tangible aspect within the photographs to represent the subject’s statements, as well as referring to the colloquial term of “being fruity”. While the fruits change, each is linked by a strong visual presence of color, forming a not-so subtle rainbow, and boldness in their validity.
As a queer woman and photographer, it was important for me to show a balanced representation of the path towards accepting a queer identity for one’s self. The models are collaborators in creating the images. They divulge their mind’s fears, of the oversexualization of queer women, of coming out, and of being “enough”. Yet, the portraits show the true beauty of each one, and the celebration of being “fruity”.
“I felt like most of my sexuality had to be validated by my body and how sexually appealing I was. If I wasn't hot enough, how was I going to be seen as attractive? My queer validation began to become how attractive I was, not about who I was or the person I was. I struggled to validate to validate myself, even though I was hearing objectifications from both men and women. There is a certain amount of sexualization of queer women where people struggle to some to terms with the fact that the sexuality of queer women does not belong to the general public.
Queer women are constantly fetishized, whether it be ‘asked to be a third’ on tinder, or being told ‘it’s just a phase’, or being a PornHub category, we are never truly validated as who we are
WHEN WILL I BE MORE THAN WHAT MY BODY IS WORTH?”
“The hardest part of accepting my sexuality was that it doesn’t change my femininity + doesn’t make me any less of a woman.
I’ve always worried that other women who aren’t queer will think I’m creepy or weird just because I like women.”
“Growing up I came from accepting parents and progressive friends. Maybe that’s why I was able to come out at such a young age. Unlike most, I would say, discovering my sexuality was never the hardest part. For me it was being. I am a bisexual white woman and with that comes the expectation of full duality. I must desire men and women equally or else I am seen as attention seeking. I am always the spectacle. When I am around my straight friends I must explain myself. When I am around LGBTQ+ community I feel like I am never ENOUGH.
Never fully fitting in. Always behind the glass.”
“The hardest part of coming to terms with my sexuality that I’m still processing is not being completely out to my family due to being scared they won’t accept me. My brothers and parents constantly say homophobic things outwardly and even towards me despite never telling them that I’m gay. Once I say those words to them, I’ll be subjected to those comments and more and I’ll know it was said with more purpose. I will also be overly sexualized as they already make sexual comments towards me about ‘what if’ I was a lesbian despite me never telling them myself.”
“As a bisexual woman, I had always struggled with figuring out and coming to terms with my sexuality, I believe largely due to my religious upbringing in Texas. My queer-related thoughts that I had I would push down immediately into depths of my mind, scolding myself for thinking them in the first place. Eventually, the weight of my internalized queerphobia became too much to bear, so I finally began the journey to self-acceptance. At that point, another challenge presented itself; I was afraid of coming out to many people, mainly because of the male gaze (I’m not out to my dad). Most knew me as straight, and I was still interested in guys.
So I became afraid of what they might think of my sexuality, which led to a difficult kind of sexual suppression, i.e. when I had hypothetically asked my ex-boyfriend what he would think if I were to be bi, all he said was that it would “make things more complicated”, disgusted & troubled by the thought. Today, I am becoming less insecure & ashamed of this very omnipresent piece of me, because whoever I end up with must accept & LOVE the WHOLE ME. My sexuality is and will always be a part of my being and it’s not going to disappear.”
Exhibition Showing - December 2021, Department of Photography & Imaging, NYU Tisch School of the Arts