Natalie Espinosa

Of Skin and Pellicle

2020

Just before and during the pandemic, I had three related dreams. In the first, I am sitting on the floor when suddenly someone points out that there is a small cactus growing from the sole of my foot. In the second dream, a group of us are being chased by a giant snake that is slithering its way around a modern house. We hide; I look down, and find a small snake undulating under my skin, near my ankle. In the third dream, a friend tells me she is pregnant, but instead of a round belly I can see that she has a stiff plastic doll under her skin.

What is skin but a container, a bag that takes the shape of what we carry within? Things that are waiting in the wings, things that need to grow, things that could be but aren’t, things that we need to let go? What are you carrying? Should it be squeezed out?

This drawing is inspired by History of the Composition of the Human Body, a book published in 1556. Specifically, by plates described as pertaining to the “skin and pellicle, and the fleshy fabric that covers the entire body, and of the fattiness found between this hide and said fabric.”