Milkweed (detail), 2004
Mixed media
22 x 30 inches



One pair of red panties. Ten scraps of blue fabric. One bug with transparent wings. Three old songs. One orange rubberband. Walnut ink spilled on paper. One tap dance with a birthday cake on my head. Two hundred dreams about a rock star. Twelve colored
pencils. One place where the glass slipper no longer fits. One lipstick called Nightlife. His eyes.

My system is a ship. Stay very close to nature. Wonder about lightbulbs with a childlike intensity. When I kiss your lips I want to sink down to the bottom of the sea. Think about what true suffering is. Embrace my insignificance. Scream let me in and then hide from the door. Sign a book out of the library called Sculpting with Cement and do the exact opposite of what it says. Buy the book Nothing Is Impossible and try to believe. Circular not linear. It’s like putting on socks.
Connect the dots. Don’t forget to buy pull-ups. Remain enchanted with ideals. Get everything mixed up with large quantities of irreverence. Have another cup of coffee. It’s all about joy.

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