 |
The Earth Inside Of A Savage
Springtime is an obscure alphabet for the bathing bodies swimming through night, and haunted by the intersection of sudden dreams that detach the strangers from their phantoms, without a scent or trace of hemlock, impeded only by your refusal to sever the black mirror from its bride. While she sleeps, conspiracies undermine the brightness of unnatural acts. Only the sublimely hidden recalls the necessity of a lost gesture, an intimate touch. She is playing, perhaps dreaming of her death, or her birth, with a detailed vengeance comparable only to the phases of the moon…
38" x 46" Pigment Print 2009