tape, gauze, fluorescent light
13.5 x 7 x 6 inches, 2018
All of art is a constant crisis. A crisis of expression, medium, relevance, fabrication, labor; a crisis of space, purpose, color; a crisis of the hand, the heart, the brain, the loin; a crisis of gesture and history and violence; a crisis of housing, structure and institutional power; a crisis of the board and the bored; a crisis of ethics and of economics; a crisis of the maker and the value of the maker and a crisis of the housekeeper and the gatekeeper and the value of the housekeeper and the gatekeeper; a crisis of access and gentrification; a crisis of fences and walls and barriers; a crisis of innards and containment; a crisis of no money and no faith and no will and no food and no ideas and no support and no way to go on and then you go on, or you don’t.
And if you go on, it might make you sick – sick of the shit and the grit, sick of the gesture, sick of the institution which (up)holds the gesture, sick of the system, sick of constraints, sick of limpness and fear, sick of rigidity and bravado, sick of melting, sick of rotting, sick of healing, sick of scrutiny and weight, sick of floating and coasting, sick of knowing.
But let’s be sick – let’s un-know sickly together.