VestAndPage trained ‘Eye Contact’ with the girls of Yolia during the workshop: how to look each other into the eyes.
This simple act, unconsciously executed every day, turns out to be difficult once done consciously – we feel how much we express through our eyes, and maybe we don’t actually want to share it.
Inside our eyes resides our history. The eyes are the windows to our souls it is said, and they can tell our stories and who we are without words.
VestAndPage recorded for 30 seconds each girl’s gaze.
The video’s background voices are the girls’ spoken words, while reading their writings, results of the exercises about fears and desires.
I’m afraid of myself. I’m afraid of not controlling myself, because sometimes I’m pretty angry. This control is not so much about containing myself, but about not hurting the persons I love. I’m also afraid of closed spaces, and of spaces filled with people.
I once knew a girl named Gloria, just as my mother, and I always went to her house, or she came to mine. It was not more than three months that we knew each other, that my friend suddenly died, because she was hit by a car, by a taxi. I miss her a lot.
I’m afraid of fighting with my sister. I’m also afraid of the bathroom at night, as there are sounds just like in a horror-movie. There are also shadows and strange sounds that frighten me. I’m also afraid of not being able to talk to a kid that I actually like.
I’d wish that my sister wouldn’t get sick, that my mother would be fine, that my father wouldn’t get angry, that my aunt would love me, that my grandfather would be with me, that my grandmothers Ana and Janet would be with me, as well as my uncle Toño.
I’m afraid of myself, because sometimes my own reactions frighten me. I’m also very afraid of wars, and of the hate in the world. I’m afraid of darkness and to be alone in unknown places. I’m afraid of water. I’m afraid of getting to know new persons. I’m very afraid, less than of death itself, than of how to die. I’m very afraid of pain, and of things with twines.
I like chocolate ice-cream. My dream is to travel by plane, to Las Vegas, the United States or to Acapulco, and to have a sister. I like to jump the rope, to play volleyball and to play with my friends. I like to watch TV, and to stay with my nephew, my mum and my dad.
I’m afraid of solitude, love, myself, not doing things well, affection, engagements, not thinking things through, the others, violence, inequality, poverty, love.
I’d wish that my aunty would stay with me, and that she would reconcile with my mother, with my mother and with my uncle, and that everything would be just like it was before. I liked to go for a walk with my aunty, and that she bought me anything I’d like on my birthdays. … Today I’m happy because it’s my birthday.
I’m afraid of many things, but basically I’m afraid of death, because it frightens me that everyone I love a lot dies, of my friends and my family; especially my dad, as I feel that he’s my strength. I feel that he’s the root, and I’m the tree.
I’d wish to stay with my mother, and to have a father. I’d wish that my mother wouldn’t drink, and when I’m grown up, I’d like to work as model or teacher.
I’m afraid of heights. I’m afraid of being alone.
The thing I wish the most is to be a dance teacher one day. And to stay all my life with Oscar.
I’m afraid of heights, of wars, of vipers, of doing something and failing, of scorpions, of getting angry.
I’d wish to have a baby-dog, to work as a model, to have very long hair, to have a veterinary to cure animals, to have many modern things. I’d wish to be more present and concentrated, to behave better and to move forward.
One dream is to stay in my house, another one is to be with my daddy.
I wish to pass secondary school. I wish to support my mother. I wish not to fight with others, but to make them happy instead. I wish to know my father. I’d wish to be the sister of Jessica.
I’m afraid of heights, of staying very high and fall. I’m afraid of darkness and of not being able to see. I’m afraid of failing. I’m afraid of death – whenever I think about it, I despair a lot. I’m afraid of staying in closed spaces and of being alone. I’m afraid that something could happen to my family, an accident or something similar. And I’m afraid of a certain dream: it’s the dream of a door that when I touch it, it proves to be frozen. I’m afraid of not being able to speak.
There’s a door leading to many dark paths. It’s as if you enter into an unknown space, and you don’t know what will happen as you pass through the door, you don’t know if what you’ll find behind it will be good or bad.
I’m afraid of solitude, of being alone in a space that I don’t know, especially at night time. I’m afraid of fights and quarrels, of not being accepted, of not believing in myself, of getting homework, of not being understood. I’m afraid of being departed from my sisters, of not controlling me, of not knowing about things, of my life repeating itself, of not being able to express myself.
I’m afraid of the future, of death, water, and solitude.
I’m afraid of heights, and of having to go through a slow and painful death.
I’m afraid of snakes, of scorpions, darkness, and strange sounds.