Rosanna Szymanik Meikle
I am not feeling so well, ask me again tomorrow.
“Rosanna Honey Szymanik Meikle (B. 2000) is a multidisciplinary artist living and working in Tāmaki Makaurau, Aotearoa, producing work that spans the grief and elation of having a body, head, and heart, using textiles and text to translate the complicated relationship between her chronic illness, emotional manifestations, and the unique disposition of being human.”
How are you feeling, Rosanna?
It started with a sick bay; I remember attending my catholic primary school. I loved the hymns, the ritual, the repetition, and the flagellation. I loved being sick. I was sick with colds, stomach bugs, insurmountable cuts, and scrapes. A sore finger, loose tooth, a need for a plaster whether skin had been cut or not, sore stomach.
I would lie on the plastic-covered mattress, creaking as I moved. Fluorescent lights would hum. I’d shut my eyes, but the greenish light would seep through my lashes, and I couldn’t sleep.
I was 13. I’m now 23.
It continues with my bed now; my mattress is more comfortable. It still creaks if I roll too fast; that hasn’t changed. I have pills now; I have a hot wheatie.
Buscopan, Codeine Phosphate, Celecoxib, Hyoscine butylbromide, Mometasone Furoate, Omeprazole, Pacimol, Tranexamic Acid, Tramadol Hydrochloride, Zopiclonen
I don’t feel so good, ask me again tomorrow
Yesterday I was beautiful
Today, I am a cowboy
Tomorrow I will be sick
Sicker
Sickest
Sick of it
should I have been elated when the doctor put his hands in my guts and shuffled around and only found offal and glitter
I bled after
they gave me a sandwich and I choked
I don’t feel so good/I go to my doctor and leave empty/My liver is wrong I get very drunk/I smile a lot/ My hands shake/ I stop making things/ I don’t understand what is happening to me/ I hold my mum's hand/ My fingers shake/ I am so old/ I still hold my crayons in a fist.
