![women covered in paper-mache like material in dimly lit room with light shining on her face](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-4b-final_0.jpg?itok=RC9gogUl)
Created by Hunter Schafer
Photographed by Riley Buttery
“To hatch from a shell, hatch again, and emerge from another shell that follows. To understand
that I am building up generations of myself rather than digging deep for a core.
No climax. No sanctuary. No conclusion. Just tumbling.
That is the best way, at this point in my course, that I can understand gender.
Decay.” —Hunter Schafer
Scroll down to read Hunter’s entire artist’s statement.
![hunter schafer hatching](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-1a-final_0.jpg?itok=OmaUB7n3)
![women on yellow background with funky yellow hat and clothing](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-2_0.jpg?itok=1yYLTwZM)
![overhead shot of women with blonde hair and yellow hat and pony tail](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-1b.jpg?itok=4bBpWM7b)
![girl wearing white briefs covered in paper mache like](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-3b_0.jpg?itok=kp2e5OZ3)
![hunter schafer hatching](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-3a_0.jpg?itok=BJrx75xo)
![hunter schafer hatching](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-4b-final.jpg?itok=L6lyfjj5)
![girl on set of sheer curtain dressed in costume staring up at ceiling](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-5a-final.jpg?itok=dyvtZgCR)
![hunter schafer hatching](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-5b_1.jpg?itok=J7UC-LlA)
![hunter schafer hatching](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-6a-final.jpg?itok=p-ekJnET)
![hunter schafer hatching](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-5b_0.jpg?itok=1yEpp-Ul)
![women covered in paper-mache like material in dimly lit room with light shining on her bent right arm](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-4a-final.jpg?itok=7-_j4hqp)
![in a pink/orange lit room, a women kneels holding a clear wire that comes out of her belly like an umbilical cord](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-7a-final.jpg?itok=fPOuCeV5)
![hunter schafer hatching](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-7b-final.jpg?itok=cPNghRRS)
![hunter schafer hatching](/sites/default/files/styles/media720w/public/2018-01/011218-hatching-8-final.jpg?itok=EXY9yHSF)
As “trans” has become a term to define me, I sometimes wonder if my transition will come to a close before my life does. Some of the trans community yearns to efficiently move from point A to point B. Or B to A. It makes sense when trying to reach a clear destination, but that efficiency lacks luster when there is no light at the end of the tunnel.
I keep looking for sanctuary.
in my body, but I don’t own it
in the names I call myself, which never quite fit
in my residence, which continually migrates
in the clothes I wear, which weren’t made for me
in the embrace from my community, which I fail to reciprocate,
in a host that doesn’t seem to allow sanctuary.
I think that I might never find solace. She is just as crumbly as the places I look for her. A warped mirror of her upbringing, just like me.
But I believe trans people (everyone) can get closer to solace, traveling through an exponential decay of frameworks that might allow me to get glimpses and tastes of her—but always keeping a fair distance by virtue of accumulating enough new barriers along the way.
Or maybe she is me. If she is I will never know her.
Just as we’ve finished building a new framework on top of a crumbling structure, our new home becomes too familiar, and just as faulty.
To hatch from a shell, hatch again, and emerge from another shell that follows. To understand that I am building up generations of myself rather than digging deep for a core.
No climax. No sanctuary. No conclusion. Just tumbling.
That is the best way, at this point in my course of travel, that I can understand gender.
Decay.
HUNTER SCHAFER is a multimedia artist and model based in New York City.
RILEY BUTTERY is a photographer, art student, and part-time cat owner living in Brooklyn.
Mikki Halpin, story producer; Lauren Teng, producer; Tommy Napoli, makeup; Juli Akaneya, hair; Alixandra Matos and Katalina Colagate, photo assistants.
Published 1-16 -18