For six hours I lay under the floor and read aloud the book 'The Borrowers,' which could only be heard by lying on the floor of the library and listening through a vent.

For six hours I lay under the floor and read aloud the book 'The Borrowers,' which could only be heard by lying on the floor of the library and listening through a vent.
Walking across the tundra, negotiating the waterways, carrying an armful of vegetables for soup.
Darkness: the sound of water dripping, rocks abruptly falling, the ringing of bells, moving lights, a figure disappearing into black, the smell of seaweed. Lost.
Staring up into a very old and tall Indian fig tree, we waited for the leaves to fall, trying to catch them in mid-air. I sewed together the leaves that we had captured.
A six-hour walk along a railroad track in a public park.
We are sitting atop the remains of previous generations. What survives? What disappears? What changes?
In exactly the allotted time, the shadow moved from the tip of my toes, up my body, and across the top of my head.
Screaming in unison with the riders of AtmosFear in the adjacent Liseburg Amusement Park...
A durational performance on the limits of balance, of strength, of control.
Durational performance in the city's open-air flea market, as part of Infr'action Festival
International d'Art Performance, Sète, France