Mother jar presses on the edges, the edges that birth takes you to and the abyss that birthing throws you into. Interjected with haunting memories clawing at the white sheets of the bed. Our little jar, our curved glass viewing pane splinters all known previous perception, as it breaks on the fall into the abyss. That abyss, that cloud of God, when you touch God, become God, are God. Only your skin, loosely holding you together, floats back down to the hospital bed. Then what are you going to do with what you now know.

This is part of a series of works organised by Verity Spott for Veer2, produced and published jointly in the University of Surrey and the CPRC, Birkbeck College.