Shala Miller

It was last March when I noticed I usually wake up with new discoveries on my skin. Scratches—ranging in size and color, found with and sometimes without blood. I had answers, that were really just questions for my nails and their strange behavior during the night. This confused questioning took part of an ethnographic study about the relationship between me and my mother, Ruby Clyde, but specifically focused on and thought about the idea of trauma being passed in the blood. Through the process and play of finding grounding, understanding, clarity and then completely losing it all–the study, but specifically the scratches, made me realize that my body had already begun a study of itself, with a keen interest in the mystery behind my blood. So, since then I’ve situated myself as passenger in this voyage my body has begun to take in getting to know itself and its history, which can also be understood as a voyage to black womanhood. The Echo is the third part of a multi-part study, containing notes, questions, pseudo-answers but most importantly a marker of when I and my body began to take ship.

I wanna be bad drive me around in your daddy’s car eat my shoelaces and then call me pretty say it like you don’t mean it water me until I’m thin again fake your accent and then try and steal my mom’s hum from my front Pocket

my eyes are too big your mouth is too wide and it's Sunday your dad always smells like grease and rose water my dad's sheets always smell like hospital hallways you like terrible people I'm self proclaimed Bad christian and we both have been asking what are love letters really about so may I ask that you cover me once again in the skin you're in it's cold

Two fears get Together and Say Let’s take it all Babe And suddenly my Skin becomes A cave And I rejoice

Shala Miller was born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio by two southerners named Al and Ruby. At around the age of 10 or 11, Miller discovered quietude, the kind you’re sort of pushed into, and then was fooled into thinking that this is where she should stay put. Since then, Miller has been trying to find her way out, and find her way into an understanding of herself and her history, using photography, video, writing and singing as an aid in this process.