Category: Category 2
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Histories’ secrets aren’t buried. They’re knitted into the fabric of time like bad stitching, waiting for someone to come along and tease the thread. I tend to lean into things. How else might we pull if we’re not first close enough to that which may require pulling? So, I lean in. I start tugging on…
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Art doesn’t freeze time-it fractures it. You catch it mid-shatter—mid-gasp—like a clock with no hands, a statue already falling, a page licking yesterday off its tongue. The fragility isn’t the clock, it’s your hand: hold too loose, nothing happens; hold too hard, you feel the warm drip. Let go, it’s never been fragile. Hold just…