colleen mann

The note read, “I am a girl who has a big spirit and soul. No one knows how I am and how I feel because I have a different heart.” I wrote this to my mother when I was eight years old. To this day, my mom and I have never addressed the note.


I invite you to join me in taking a look at these different versions of myself. I too am unfamiliar with them. There are versions of myself I have locked away, and others I have chosen to actively grow with and into. Sometimes I look back on things I’ve thought and things I’ve seen. I’m not sure if the current me could think those thoughts or see those things. My line of vision has changed. I can no longer see the world through those eyes. I watch myself unravel, still unable to connect with this familiar stranger time and time again. I’m exhausted, but I keep pushing.


In all its chaos I forget to come up for air. And that’s when I see the conundrum. My personal voyeur, now comforted and clear, contrasts with the dark and uneasy senses that have overtaken the people around me.