IS IT ME?

From the two-person exhibition, "A Quiet Forest"

shared with Ju Young Ban at HPGRP Gallery

New York, NY

12/19/08- 01/24/09

I am slapping at the flames with lifeless hands.  Hands which, until very recently, had lain for years in my lap like injured doves.  This fire consumes all thoughts.  People asking me what the fire feels like receive little more information than silent, tiny gusts of wind put forth from my lame hands flailing past their ears.  An exceptionally insightful moment – rare and accidental, at best – might provide one with a slight graze from a chewed and ragged bit of cuticle, or perhaps even something as solid as a knuckle.  But words are another matter.  I can provide nothing verbally useful on the topic of how things are going, or what will be done about them.  Not for some time.  Not until this whole matter has been burned to smoldering little coals.  Until then I mumble and smile weakly through the smoke and record the arcs and jagged vectors cut through the flames by my cold, flapping hands, hoping they will eventually spell something intelligible.