Twenty-Three Years, Measured
The calendar on the left, the borrowings on the right, and the stretch that reaches neither given a dimension line.
Twenty works gather where a crossing, a turn, or a loose edge makes the construction easier to see.
The calendar on the left, the borrowings on the right, and the stretch that reaches neither given a dimension line.
One wall in section: bare pine, nine coats of paint, and each one breaking back further than the last.
Two profiles of one flight of steps: the line the mason cut, and the line six hundred years of shoes left behind.
One closed route, crossing itself once, broken wherever the sky refused to show up.
Where the cloth failed, someone rebuilt it in the open: ends laid one way, ends woven the other, two tails left hanging.
A small weight changes the field without becoming its center.
Selected for a loose edge that outlasted the object that made it.
A scraped page where the first route across it never fully came off.
A returning strand makes the border from its own route.
Two fields touch through a seam that does not erase either one.
Four routes keep an unfilled middle active.
A woven field leaves one bright thread outside the pattern.
The working side carries crossings the front does not show.
One diagonal pulls a field of threads into relation.
Thirty-six scraps that never met, crossed by the one seam that makes them a single thing.
A dozen tide lines and only one of them reached the furthest.
A flock changes direction without a single visible command.
A loose ochre line leads across a pale field and leaves space for another hand to answer it.
A room is part of a portrait when it is where the work actually happens.
A repeating strip of bands, each shifted half a step, arguing for the difference between still running and only looking like it.
A frame left blank on purpose, with a dated border standing in for the picture that never got made that day.
Maker's note: