no correlation other than the color of the sweater
complete overlay reveals the silhouette
neither is speaking to me
but the spanish of the four participants
both arrived on my threshold
the dog is waiting to go outside
one is named Leo
the dog follows me everywhere
the men seem to notice
water knows where it is going
no one looks up when I have an idea
both are domesticated
neither are as beloved
they are both speaking to me
at first my dog barked at the workers
I have not spoken directly to the workers yet
I overheard a big fight between one man
I work at home you see
my daughter wonders on the nature of our dog’s death
I could go on and the comparisons
but I just checked and one of the machines
the dirt they shovel back in
I need to be alone
the back-up beep
When I walk and think about science, the arrows become change.
Every day, mothers run through my hands and I eat war.
When I walk and think about arrows, the blood becomes botany.
Every day, hands runs through my hands and I eat my daughter.
If blood and skin stand next to each other, you can almost see the ideas.
Every day, Afghanistan runs through my hands and I eat anthrax.
If seeds equals silence, my life means nothing.
Every day, war runs through my hands and I eat text.
Science, seeds and silence live next door, they are neighbors, I hear them.
On My dog & the sewer project:
It's all true. This piece came at a time when I was steeping myself (like an ardent Earl-Grey tea bag) in post modernism, and represents the closest thing to narrative I had done in a long time. Breaking stories into bits! The sewer seems to be working fine, but the lovely dog died from a pancreatic disorder.
On Afghan Variations:
This piece was composed in november 2001 using a mad-lib process, in which I composed sentences with holes, and then created variables to fit those holes. Then shuffled and drew. Then tweaked it so that it read. My inclination to handle tough stuff thusly was prompted by a great process class I'd taken at the School of the Art Institute with John Corbett and Terry Kapsalis. My ability to concentrate was made possible by the Ragdale Foundation.