My Life as a Dog

I grew up during the space race against the backdrop of a mid century childhood. In 3rd grade, I started hearing words like Sputnik, cosmonaut, Laika and spaceflight on TV. In the centerfold of Life magazine, I once saw 2 astronauts weightlessly floating in a chamber, hovering like a kite sitting on the wind, motionless.

Most of my adult life, I felt weightless, untethered, not grounded in my body. At times, I have felt like a vapor hanging outside the periphery of my skin. My body wasn’t my happy place or safe spot —too much had happened. It was unsafe for me to be in.

If you haven’t seen Lasse Halleström’s movie, “My Life as a Dog”, it is a worthwhile view. It is an insightful portrayal of childhood trauma and all the ways we attempt to survive abuse.

I dedicate this art piece to Laika, one of the first space dogs to orbit the earth. Tragically, he didn’t survive.