My work is dedicated to the Knight 6 feet under in a mass grave. I hope he’s proud of me. I appropriate his clothes, land, voice, life and fit the box of him in the circle gap void in my midwestern-southern world. While he appropriates me, I slowly become less and less who I am, and he becomes more of me—colliding faster than I ever expected.
I play the jester, trying to reconnect a false magic for our world, but that is a foolish endeavor. I will work the rest of my life knee-deep in clay, metal, plaster, ink, fiction, words, my mind; so that maybe in 624 years they might finally spark their magic.
- 2024