The Cat's Claw Won't Cut Itself

The idea behind this show began as a personal response to my divorce. On our first wedding anniversary, I set out to cut the cat’s claw that had overgrown in my yard. Alone. Three months prior, I had told my husband we needed to separate. I had been begging him to help me with the cat’s claw. I’d tell him, “I just need you to hold the bag.”

Cat’s claw’s grip on New Orleans is an interesting one—a parasitic transplant holding the city hostage. I see it everywhere. It’s not a bad-looking plant from afar: lush green leaves with yellow blooms. But up close, its wickedness is apparent. They really do have claws, y’all. And a strong grip. The claw was here before me and will flourish long after I’m gone. But for now, I have to keep cutting it back. I hack and hack and hack. Chop chop pull chop. Tearing away at these suffocating vines, cutting them at the root.

I begin to realize the cat’s claw has lived with me my whole life, each turn and knot another who has hitched a ride. I cannot get mad at its existence. I cannot expect it to retreat of its own accord. I have to kill it myself. It is my own burden to bear. The claw is not just an external force; it grows within us, too. It is the insidious id, the darker self that gnaws at our insides, spreading like a cancer. If we do not cut away at this inner vine, it will overgrow and choke the very essence of our being. The act of pruning, of self-maintenance, is not just necessary—it is a righteous battle, a war for our very souls. If you are not careful in tending your garden, you risk being overgrown. You risk being taken advantage of. You must be strong enough not to feed it, or it will feed on you.

Here I am again… left holding the bag. Stunned by the aftermath. Still sifting through the debris. Each time I think it’s over, I pull miles of vine out from under me. So much internalized anger for letting myself be abandoned in the claw. I nourished this plant in spite of myself. I am the culprit of my own demise, trapped in a prison while I hold the key.

The Cat’s Claw Won’t Cut Itself

an exhibition at the Good Children Gallery of New Orleans, LA