Shrine
Hawkins HQ - Atlanta, GA
03.16.24 - 04.20.24
I feel the warm flow of stone beneath me, it makes me levitate.
I’m weightless, sunlight has yet to see my face.
I wonder if it will remember my voice,
A dim light shrouds me, encases me. I wear it like a skin.
It keeps my insides liquid, in osmosis with the elements that surround me.
I don’t know what today is, for time behaves differently here,
I am a being of many beings, I have names I can no longer remember.
Suddenly I feel gravity’s pull, it reminds me I have a weight and mass.
My malleable body can’t move, so I puddle into a basin, taking its shape.
My fingers stretch to crawl out of this vessel, but they’re brittle. They break easily.
I cry to the sun but I hear no answer as this sinks under the horizon.
My eyes focus on a distant glimmer, it
looks familiar, it reminds me of home.
The ants pick me up.
I’m weightless, sunlight has yet to see my face.
I wonder if it will remember my voice,
A dim light shrouds me, encases me. I wear it like a skin.
It keeps my insides liquid, in osmosis with the elements that surround me.
I don’t know what today is, for time behaves differently here,
I am a being of many beings, I have names I can no longer remember.
Suddenly I feel gravity’s pull, it reminds me I have a weight and mass.
My malleable body can’t move, so I puddle into a basin, taking its shape.
My fingers stretch to crawl out of this vessel, but they’re brittle. They break easily.
I cry to the sun but I hear no answer as this sinks under the horizon.
My eyes focus on a distant glimmer, it
looks familiar, it reminds me of home.
The ants pick me up.
Shrine is a experimental installation. Using materials, symbols, and objects charged
with personal and spiritual significance, the space is transformed into a chamber of reverence
to time and fragility.
with personal and spiritual significance, the space is transformed into a chamber of reverence
to time and fragility.
