Ghost of Pain is a self-portrait taken from photographic artist Jaeda DeWalt’s 44 rooms series and is a part of the DeWalt Gallery collection.
Ghost of Pain
I often wonder, my precious child
if you will ever forgive me,
for sending you back to heaven prematurely.
Will we meet again…
when I have left this mortal existence
and slipped into your realm?
You entered my body through a violent act.
Your mere presence inside me;
a daily reminder of that horrific night.
That evil man took away my sanctuary.
Not only did he steal my body,
he stole my virtue, my heart and soul.
It has been up to me to piece back together,
the human wreckage he left behind.
I have restructured my identity
and emerged a renewed young woman,
yet my heart is still drawn to your unborn cries.
I now know I can handle any challenge life may give me.
Now it is my hope that God can forgive me,
for sending you back to heaven,
before you even had a chance
to experience mortal existence.
Bless you sweet, innocent, child of mine.
Poem © Jaeda DeWalt
About this image:
The ghostly version of me was a fluke. I lit myself using just a blue party light-bulb, positioned closely to me by laying one of my lamps on its side. I was wearing a velvet burgundy dress and had my hair pulled back. The lack of adequate light produced this strangely ghostly/alien image of me.
The staircase . . . i went to an old community building where artists lived and could take art lessons in Seattle, WA. There had been a fire and the place was in a state of repair. Lots of cool, gutted out rooms, abandoned spaces. I snuck in, flirted my way past the construction workers and got some great pictures. This one is a close-up of one of the staircases.