Saturday, April 23, 2011

trees and dreams of furniture...

April 22, 2011
 I have to choose between the objects in the house.  All of the house's contents have been piled in a mountain of stuff in the backyard.  Tables on chairs on sofas on piles of books balanced on dressers with heaps of clothes, ottomans, bookcases and divans laid in between.  The result is a 30 foot high hill that has been fashioned into a cliff standing above a small kiddie pool.

The pool is filled with a substance that eats its way down to the center of the world thereby releasing all the birds that have been sleeping in a giant underground cage.  The birds fly up and away, leaving the Earth.  This loss of birds, of the soul, is of course my fault.  I am told I must make amends.

I continue to add to the pile of furniture and household objects, layering them ever higher. Small sculptures, vases, toys, shoes and flower pots are added to the mound, filling in all the negative spaces. It is no longer just enough for me to choose between all of the objects.  This will not undo the bird flight.  I must continue to stack everything.  Then finally, when there is nothing left, I climb to the top and leap.

April 23, 2011

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