Rue’s Malaise
March 2024. Singed wood plaque, red dye, rabbit skin glue, sunbathed denim, cotton clothesline, sisal, hemp fiber and one blue sweater
Close up of singed wood plaque reading:
“When will the sun go down? It’s early these days. It’s quieter too, the sound of coyotes hollering really only permeates into my dreams. They used to be outside my window.
It opened into a garden in the backyard. A pvc arch of ivy that never fully took root and a bath of broken bricks. The planters are overgrown and everything’s thirsty. It hadn’t rained in a year. The sky wrung out orange and black and grey. There were not thunderstorms here. The smell of a summer barbeque gone awry and the deep curdling cry of my mother in the morning. All the plants were dying and the sliding glass door slammed shut.“