|Me in 5th grade:||I will never smoke or drink or do any drugs ever|
|Me now:||I probably wouldn't do meth|
Two mama cats who gave birth at the same time, co-mothering their eight new babies.
However, I prefer to think of them as a lesbian cat couple.
This was my easy way out of the loneliness that I had become accustomed to. The loneliness sat with me, like a party guest that was a friend-of-a-friend who stayed long after the party was finished. It sat with me in my bed, where I lay facedown, wine-drunk and pensive. It rubbed my back in a way that was too familiar for a first encounter. Loneliness watched me as I slept and it remained in my bed when I woke up the next morning. And every morning.
One day I awoke and I could feel a lack of something. I had stopped feeling the presence of loneliness so intensely. I had become content with my new roommate. We coexisted in silent acknowledgement. Now I felt like a balloon that was cut free and floating, skimming against the ceiling of a closed-in room. I could only feel loneliness in an abstract and detached way. Sometimes, during casual conversations, the lack of feeling was so distinct, I felt as though I needed the person who was speaking to me to crush me with the entire weight of their body so that I could be sure that they were actually trying to communicate something to me.
My life doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, and I’m pretty sure it never will. Some days I’m content with it, some days I’m not. All I know is that I can’t explain my decisions half the time. I wonder if this lost feeling ever goes away. I have a bad feeling it doesn’t. But then my cat comes and curls up on my chest, or the man I love picks me up in the middle of a street in Memphis, or I make my dad laugh as we finally see eye to eye as human beings over shots of bourbon, or I’m told I’ve inspired someone’s world view to shift, and somehow it all feels like it’s going to be ok. I’m mental and all over the place, and I’m not really certain where I’m headed, but for the first time in awhile, it’s really ok. And, for me, that’s a huge step.
BOOK SCULPTING BY ALEXANDER KORZER-ROBINSON
Artist Alexander Korzer-Robinson - “Through my work in the tradition of collage I am pursuing a very personal obsession of creating narrative scenarios in small format. By using antiquarian books, it makes the work simultaneously an exploration and a deconstruction of nostalgia. I make book sculptures / cut books by working through a book, page by page, cutting around some of the illustrations while removing others. In this way, I build my composition using only the images found in the book.”