Gathering winds...
...bring change.
Preparing works for the upcoming Ty Stokes exhibition, putting the final touches on things. Loading the massive crates from one location to the other, as I move them, they become dinged, scarred...building a history. They are heavy; the large crates, they are too cumbersome for me to move as an individual. When they are loaded into the jeep, they fill the space entirely. This morning, while transferring them from home to car- my hand was smashed between the wooden plank of the crate and the brass catch of the side door, tearing the skin, bruising the flesh. The fact that these objects create such burden, that they carry such mass, and yet, their contents have yet to be revealed interests me. The idea of the unknown.
can't wait!
Is it truly the unknowing of the contents or the mystery of what lies within. I believe that they are filled with lavishing objects that all would desire or with all of the missing socks that never seem to come out of the dryer or whatever ones imagination can fill them with.