after years in the studio slinging lead. “Why don’t you just give someone else the instructions,” her gallerist had once urged. “We’ll help you hire them, you’d probably make more money in the end. It would definitely speed up production time.” She didn’t need the money—her career, her wife’s, the inheritance, it was fine, really. […]

and so the child turns away from his uncurious mother and instead falls inside, wondering what made one thing real to the mother and not the other, the other things he perceives so vividly, so fully, not yet aching, back aching, head aching, knees throbbing, IT band strained, the bodily insistences that makes imagination less […]

but a reduction to vision fails by the assumption that vision is distinct from other perceptual and bodily modes,” the artist countered the critic and his lonely our. The critic seemed to say, fine, but text on the page is still something you see. That’s not my problem, it’s all secondary! the artist wanted to […]

“Function is fused with the unfolding temporal and dramatic events,” the critic argued at a meeting organized at city hall as she tried to explain that the Big Thing for her was that it wasn’t the work that changed but you. “Well if our vision comprises the world,” he continued, “and call me a solipsist, […]

It is said the child can only eat if his mother feeds him the exact steps. First: Fingers clench; now bend your elbow from seventy-five degrees to twenty-five, so on. It is said the child has never seen his reflection despite being presented a mirror. It is said the child fathered himself. It is said […]

“Look, the city is fine with you placing it outside, so long as you don’t mess too much with the view,” the gallerist haggled over the phone. The artist stuck on the throwaway “look,” what with there being nothing for her to look at. Oh, so now I’m responsible for the world, she wanted to […]