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Modern Borked (1997)

fig.33) Untitled drawing that is intended to resemble a study for inverting the fingers of a human hand (1997) graphite on paper 

There's the green lipstick pen, the pie eating plate from the contest in Dover along with the twirling cord from the windup phone on the wall; there's the singularly flat counter top in teal, the pink boots by the door, and an apron string from someone's mother from somewhere else before. There are better days and there are better ways. This map is only intended to be right, a suggestion with as much flourish as none. The sun can shine when I'm sad. It can be aimless and off course in parables too. This is the story of a witness, that is all. It's the lullaby before going to work. It's the action that lets me swallow before I spit, she says. This is the hood that I'll pass on when I'm done and my promise not to linger when it starts to hurt. This is the quiet click and the simple math that promises an open door for one. The dressing room is tight, the hooks are worn and the mirror is a little bit foggy. A carrier pigeon and a small ant share some coffee on the bench. "This is as far as this joke can take you," she says before leaving. "It's as far as I've ever gone."

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