05.03.2015 – 21.03.2015


Large book no one can afford, that no one can pick up. A page, paper, peeling, freezing; a frieze around a dark room. Moving along a theme, touching the ears of the sun, a cool blue light, an empty lecture theatre with a vacant mic. Rest for a moment on the couch.

Bound by international paper sizes—bureacratic modes subverted as poetry, something beyond our bodies to curve into, nestle, erase—rewrite. Let the book have arms, eyelashes, lips. The paper holds a power that needs to dissolve, evaporate into an earring, a scent, a palette, a material that invokes the flow to distraction—
I wanna
Make the paper wet
Not just with tears
With every liquid I can find
Or just leave it under my bed in a damp house
Damp palace
Where art goes to die
Books go to die
Designed by gel manicures
Pursue them
Pursue your goals
Then call me
The phone rings
I can’t believe this is art
I can’t believe this is in a gallery
I can’t believe I’m human
I can’t
Shut your eyes
Just shut them
A performance is happening




This exhibition has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council, its arts funding and advisory body.

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