A line around that we cannot see: words by Heidi Lefebrve
Drawing in the sand with my toe. I feel like a dancer. That move where you exaggerate your running arms and drag your legs in slow mo. Pair this with a sway. Arms raised. Elbows bent. Head and shoulders swoon from side to side. Close eyes. Repeat.
Studio Triad ( fold arms, nod heads to the silent beats).
We are working. We slide out from under other jobs.
Plugging the power in and pressing through the slight resistance of the switch for that first time. The light jolts on then hums like dawn.
Time is what we need. Lifting containers from one area of the house to another. They might not be heavy but there is a lot of them. Inside are treasures to behold. What even are these things? Why am I doing this? Settling in and repeating the action.
The little dog dares not step over the threshold of the studio. He taps his paws as though the floor is hot. He doesn't want a yelling.
We began by asking what do we have in common? Then we wanted to explore whether the intersections could be intentional; colour, material, light, grief. But it became apparent that the work we do maps out our collective determination to make art.
Everything is involved and everything is at stake. A Marathon. Someone throws a sopping wet sponge squarely into my relaxed face.
In anticipation of the installation of our art-
We will take turns standing on the threshold, turn around three times, throw our armfulls into the room and then run away, like dancers; drag toes, arms raised, elbows bent, sway, sway, swoon, swoon, repeat.
Studio Triad ( fold arms, nod heads to the silent beats).
We are working. We slide out from under other jobs.
Plugging the power in and pressing through the slight resistance of the switch for that first time. The light jolts on then hums like dawn.
Time is what we need. Lifting containers from one area of the house to another. They might not be heavy but there is a lot of them. Inside are treasures to behold. What even are these things? Why am I doing this? Settling in and repeating the action.
The little dog dares not step over the threshold of the studio. He taps his paws as though the floor is hot. He doesn't want a yelling.
We began by asking what do we have in common? Then we wanted to explore whether the intersections could be intentional; colour, material, light, grief. But it became apparent that the work we do maps out our collective determination to make art.
Everything is involved and everything is at stake. A Marathon. Someone throws a sopping wet sponge squarely into my relaxed face.
In anticipation of the installation of our art-
We will take turns standing on the threshold, turn around three times, throw our armfulls into the room and then run away, like dancers; drag toes, arms raised, elbows bent, sway, sway, swoon, swoon, repeat.