Every morning when I wake up
If, as an artist, I could wake up each day thinking about the thing I care most about as it relates to my artwork, what would that thing be?
Exhibit A:
Me, aged 15, visiting my sister in France.
Vineyard, sun, warm, squidgy piles of damp, fertile soil.
Bare toes.
Exhibit B:
Footage taken on my phone on an overnight bus from Mendoza, Argentina, to Santiago de Chile.
We drove over the Andes just as the dawn was breaking.
Audio is taken from a train trip to West Virginia to see one of my best friends.
The voices and instruments are him and his sister singing, taken as a voicememo on my phone.
If, as an artist, I could wake up each day thinking about the thing I care most about as it relates to my artwork, what would that thing be?
Exhibit A:
Me, aged 15, visiting my sister in France.
Vineyard, sun, warm, squidgy piles of damp, fertile soil.
Bare toes.
Exhibit B:
Footage taken on my phone on an overnight bus from Mendoza, Argentina, to Santiago de Chile.
We drove over the Andes just as the dawn was breaking.
Audio is taken from a train trip to West Virginia to see one of my best friends.
The voices and instruments are him and his sister singing, taken as a voicememo on my phone.
I want to be woken to:
Memories of profoundly simple pleasures.
Marveling at natural beauty.
Marveling at the beauty and talent of others.
Memories of traveling slow.
Marveling at the beauty and talent of others.
Memories of traveling slow.
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