Stephanie Pfriender Stylander

I “ran” with the women over my days in Jodhpur this past March where this work is from. This was my first visit to India and I am returning.
The veil is the symbol of women in India. Women are covered in public. Many, drape fabrics completely over their faces, all their senses are covered. They see whatever their fabric is that day, some see flowers, others stripes, some see pink, others see yellow. Can you imagine?
Astonished that women are covered, empathetic for them, enthralled to be surrounded by a perverse view of beauty/fashion/art, startled by a glimpse of the caste system, disturbed about family structure and saddened to see all the young girls caught in a society that does not honor life to individual freedom.
I wanted to lift the veil. Do they want it lifted? I wanted to wear a veil. For a day. I go home to New York City.
Women and their children with their smokey rimmed eyes, jewels, hennas, scars, string, deep red and black dots adorn their foreheads peaking out underneath the veiling. As if to say I am here, I will tell you a little, but I am hidden. These clues echo where they come from, where they have
been and where they are going. I am in a circle game filled with suffocating beliefs.