I wish this was a different story. The world has turned suddenly upside down. They don't know what it is to be so chronically untouched that it extended from a spaceless to the edge of what can be petted, that an accidental brush of mailman's hand on your palm sent a jolt of longing straight to your trunk. I have sat on the grass, park benches, stoops, hospital room chairs, holding the great stocks of unused, objectless desire impaled in my lungs that collapses without oxygen until I was sure I was not in the room where the air is burning. (I live in America, I don't have to love it, nothing sound less than freedom to me, you do that. Everybody's got to love something), 2020
Burnt cedar
11 x 20 x 1 inches (27.94 x 50.8 x 2.54 cm)

 

WITH BRI WILLIAMS, NADA MIAMI, ET AL. (SAN FRANCISCO, US)
DECEMBER 1–5, 2020