Posts

my house

How did you puncture me? What was I grasping for? 

 

Hello?

Are you there? Can we talk?

 

What did that tall white flower say to you? Did she ask you what you were thinking about as her petal steadily wilted? Or was she watching over you, wondering why you looked so forlorn? Maybe she was concerned? Did you ever catch the sun? Did she warm your hands from the snow and frigid Rhode Island air? What gave you the idea to make fingerless gloves from bark?

Why did you have to leave? What did you endure? What could have been done to save you? What could we have done? Did you think you weren’t worth it? That you didn’t matter? Were you afraid? Do you know just how much we miss you? 

Have you seen the impact you’ve had on others? Do you know how ahead of your time you were? Do you ever think about what your work would be now? Did you see that one of my students made beautiful work inspired by you? Did anyone ever tell you that you were an old soul? What was going through your mind then? What were you hiding? What are you hiding from? What stories did you wish to tell? Who did you trust? When was the last time you cried? When were you at your happiest? Was it when you were making? Where was your favorite place to be?

Why did it take me so long to find you? Where did you go? Were you hidden under the layers of sheer plastic and baby powder? Or hidden behind wall paper, or caught in the motion blur of a photograph? Do you think it’s possible we are kindred spirits? Do you think we would have been friends?

When did you feel the most alive? What do you miss? Who do you miss? What inspired you? Who inspired you the most? Where did you get your sense of humor? Sense of wonder? 

 

Do you remember when my class got to see a special collection of your works? And how excited I was?

 

 

 

 

Why the fuck would he say that to me? To you? To ask if I rolled around on the floor naked like you? In front of the class?  Do you think he realized how embarrassing it was? No? Do you know years later it still makes me angry to think about it?

 

Did you see when Tom helped me with my Yashica? And he told me he met you in Boulder? Do you have any idea how much I miss him? 

Did you know that you would prepare me for this moment? That your influence on me would have taken me this far? Do you know how much I wish I could tell you?

 

….Are you there?

 

Hello?

5 minute still life

 

I stared from the kitchen,

I watched as she slowly sauntered into the next room, becoming brighter and stronger.

She was fearless.

 

Nostalgia sank in 

I hurriedly found flowers and objects to place in front of her, 

an offering. 

 

She won’t stay long, I thought, 

 

We were playing hide and seek. 

 

 

~~~~~

This work came together very quickly. It gave me an idea; Every time I am home and I see this strong light lingering somewhere in our house, I have to set up a still life in that spot. It can take no longer than 10 minutes of set up time.

 

 

 

Camera Obscura

” In terms of image-repertoire, the Photograph (the one I intend) represents that very subtle moment when, to tell the truth, I am n either subject or object but a subject who feels he is becoming an object: I then experience  a micro-version of death (of parenthesis) : I am truly becoming a specter. ” – Roland Barthes Camera Lucida

(Specter: a ghostly apparition, a ghost itself, or simply an idea that people find frightening. You can give yourself nightmares if you listen to too many stories about ghostly specters appearing in dark windows.)

This is my first attempt at making a camera obscura in my room, and considering what it means to become a specter.