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"Emphysema"
This piece holds a special place for me: it is by far the most personal and impactful. The text of the piece was translated and posted next to the artwork. This piece had people lingering in front of it, which I consider a good indicator of a connection with the viewer. The text is reproduced below the image  When I was a kid, about 18, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. Before she died almost six years later, she had five surgeries, two courses of chemotherapy, one course of radiation therapy and at one point spent almost a year living in a hospital fighting an infection. I visited her as often as possible. At the time, I smoked, and I would go to the smoking lounge where I had a cigarette. The cancer ward was on the same floor as the emphysema ward, and many of the people from both wards were, amazingly, still smokers. One thing that really made an impression on me was the emphysema patients. They would get out of bed and push their oxygen carts and their IV stand down the hall, gasping all the way to the smoking lounge. They would fumble with their cigarette and lighter. Their fingers had become so swollen and disfigured because their crippled lungs couldn't give them enough oxygen. They would light a cigarette, take a puff, exhale, then put their oxygen mask on so they could breathe. I would see these people four or five times, then I wouldn't see them ever again. |