The Sacred Something
This landscape offers things up to you – and your body takes its place among them. Rest for a moment. You do not need to make anything appear; so much is already here, and you are not even close to being in control.
Archives
Correspondence : Gloss
Maybe these letters and numbers help me imagine a catastrophic snowfall in Shelby County, KY, or the action in Correspondence. But really the numbers aren’t for me. They’re for my laptop.
A Plastic Theatre : Gloss
A plastic theatre is deathless, staticky, sticky, silent. It is scary and strangely safe. Creepy and clinical but also ubiquitous.
The Sacred Something : Gloss
Rubbing up against each other (which is also a thing), things thing, and thinking things think about things, which is just their thing.
Now You See Me
Use sticks from the wings to tip over glasses of water. Tug at strings to pull out chairs for ghosts. Be in the building but NEVER be seen, no part of us.
Then a Cunning Voice and A Night We Spend Gazing at Stars
I welcome you. Go for a walk in the field. In the woods. Meadow. Desert. Street. Bring a roasted chicken dinner. Share it. All night there are sighs amongst us, a caress.
Rock Performance
Gradually, the audience realizes that the rocks are this canyon's performers. It is the slowest performance to which this audience has ever borne witness.
Ocean Oration
Letters from the ocean, messages without bottles, directed to you.