{"id":113,"date":"2019-05-05T19:52:22","date_gmt":"2019-05-05T19:52:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/?p=113"},"modified":"2019-06-18T15:43:49","modified_gmt":"2019-06-18T15:43:49","slug":"tiger-balm","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/2019\/05\/05\/tiger-balm\/","title":{"rendered":"Tiger Balm (student project)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Kelsey Chen<\/p>\n

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Tiger Balm <\/i>is a hand-bound book of poetry and art, comprised of hand-made prints, drawings, and annotations as well as printed art and text. The piece is structured as a mosaic\u2014a collection of fragmented memories and emotions that add up to the sum total of who, at this moment, I am. Titled after a Chinese traditional herbal ointment, Tiger Balm <\/i>is for wounds: It is both a confessional narrative and philosophical treatise that grapples with selfhood, loneliness, and the ecology of existence. When applied, tiger balm is hot and cold at once\u2014it brings a stinging, painful kind of relief. Learning how to feel pain without mutilation\u2014maybe that\u2019s what life is all about. Or at least, that\u2019s what this text is about: it\u2019s about showing that the bits and pieces of my past & my life that have hurt me, that some of my incidental loneliness\u2014that all of this\u2014is just a by-product of being alive. A beautiful side effect of existing. Tiger Balm, <\/i>for wounds.<\/p>\n

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Kelsey Chen Tiger Balm is a hand-bound book of poetry and art, comprised of hand-made prints, drawings, and annotations as well as printed art and text. The piece is structured as a mosaic\u2014a collection of fragmented memories and emotions that add up to the sum total of who, at this moment, I am. Titled after … Continue reading Tiger Balm (student project)<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":9703,"featured_media":122,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-113","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/files\/2019\/05\/IMG_0936-2.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/9703"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=113"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":218,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113\/revisions\/218"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/122"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=113"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=113"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/poetrymachines\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=113"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}