The Unforgiving Minute

There will be time for apologies. We have the rest of our lives to do this differently. There will be time to reach out to those you may have wronged and say that you were a younger and different person, you are sorry, you didn’t know, you tried not to know, you know now. There will be time to make it right, but it will take precisely that. It will take time.

We want a flavor of equality that none of us have tasted before.

What women like me want in the long term is for you to stop this shit and treat us like people. We want you to accept that you have done bad things, so that in the future you can do better. We want a flavor of equality that none of us have tasted before. We want to share it with you. We want a world where love and violence are not so easily confused. We want a species of sexuality that isn’t a game where we’re the prey to be hung bleeding on your bedroom wall.

Right now, we also want to rage. We are not done describing all the ways this shit isn’t okay and hasn’t been okay for longer than you can believe. We want you to make space for our pain and anger before you start telling us how you’ve suffered, too, no, really you have. We are angry, and we are disappointed.

Because you made everything precious in our lives conditional on not making a fuss.

Because you behaved as if your right never to have to deal with anyone else’s emotions or learn the shape of your own was more important than our very humanity.

Because you made us carry the weight of all the hurt that had ever been done to you, and then you praised us for being so strong.

Because we tried for so long to believe the best of you, because it felt like we had no other option.

I promise you will survive our rage. We have lived in fear of yours for so long.

The Unforgiving Minute

Sue Williams, Irresistible, rubber, 1992, text on sculpture reads: Thanks for the beer. Love is forgiving. If you don’t care about yourself, how do you expect others to–you dumb bitch. I didn’t do that. Have you been seeing someone–huh slut. I think you like it mom. Look what you made me do. The No. 1 cause of injury to women is battery (men) Course no one asks what the women did. He’s under a lot of uh———oh do. So uptight. Can you find something to ram in her mouth? We don’t know if she enjoyed it or not. This case remains a mystery.

Kiki Smith, Blood Pool , 1993, wax, gauze and pigment

Venice Biennale 2013

YOKO ONO, ARISING

A CALL WOMEN OF ALL AGES, FROM ALL COUNTRIES OF THE WORLD: YOU ARE INVITED TO SEND A TESTAMENT OF HARM DONE TO YOU FOR BEING A WOMAN. WRITE YOUR TESTAMENT IN YOUR OWN LANGUAGE, IN YOUR OWN WORDS, AND WRITE HOWEVER OPENLY YOU WISH. YOU MAY SIGN YOUR FIRST NAME IF YOU WISH, BUT DO NOT GIVE YOUR FULL NAME. SEND A PHOTOGRAPH ONLY OF YOUR EYES. THE TESTAMENTS OF HARM AND PHOTOGRAPHS OF YOUR EYES WILL BE EXHIBITED IN MY INSTALLATION ARISING, JUNE 1 – NOVEMBER 24, 2013, IN THE EXHIBITION, PERSONAL STRUCTURES, AT PALAZZO BEMBO IN VENICE, AS PART OF THE 55TH VENICE BIENNALE. A BOOK WILL ALSO BE PREPARED OF THE ARTWORK, AND A SELECTION OF YOUR TESTAMENTS AND PHOTOGRAPHS WILL BE PUBLISHED IN THIS BOOK. THE INSTALLATION ARISING WILL CONTINUE TO GROW AND WILL BE EXHIBITED IN MANY COUNTRIES. I VERY MUCH HOPE FOR YOUR PARTICIPATION.

yoko ono

April 29, 2013