July 23 – August 20, 2016
I don’t much traffic with the dead, Dwight, but in your case, I’ll make an exception. I do wish my voice reflected a time when we both believed in prayer, but those days are over.
In the mornings I can still fake sunshine, but evenings I’m a dismal, wet, downpour. It’s after 11pm ya know? Yes, we have found something in the boredom that held us together… ’til imperfections got the better of us, and it was time for new friendships. However, I do have brand new carpets on the floor… so you won’t hurt your knees if you come crawling back.
I’m not being mean, I’m being real. I woke up this morning with a bad case of the uglies. And walked around inside myself.
This is not the way I am, really. I’m much taller in person, you know that. It’s just that the squatter inside me has to come up for air. I apologize Dwight, if his words inflict emotional wounds. I’ll admit, he’s an absolute bastard.
Before ending this tiresome conversation, keep your shadow inside a heavy coat. Leave dreams behind Let sleep, like sand, pour into your head. Wear dark glasses, and stay away from mirrors.
Me? I’ve launched my body into unknown spaces. Towards discoveries that are perhaps beyond escaping… if we continue to duck, keep our heads down, we could survive.
Freedom, freedom and abstraction.
—
Abstracted
(2016), Mike Kuchar
Koak appears courtesy of Alter Space Gallery. Mike Kuchar appears courtesy of [2nd floor p rojects]