My Gallbladder was an Installation Artist
Posted by: Debbie McCarthy
Not only did it make countless little spherical “stones” out of raw materials of cholesterol and/or bile, it also decided that wasn’t enough. It carved some paths to other organs, as well as changing their color and texture via scarring and disease.
Oh gallbladder, I want to call you names, but I know what it’s like to work with what’s there, and I recognize that part of myself in who you were. It’s just… your art would’ve killed me, eventually.
I’m sure you got a laugh the times you turned me yellow. In fact, I did too. Remember when I called us a banana in pyjamas? I didn’t like the itching as much, but I guess from your vantage point, you probably saw it as performance art. Maybe you marveled at the way I would continue to push myself through your exhibitions- trying desperately to hold on to what remained of my life.
…and then, you won. I just couldn’t “life” anymore. Not well enough to fake it anyway. And so, we got some pictures taken, and some tests done, and then procedures. Now you’re gone, and I’m left cleaning up your studio…