![]() ![]() “How can I tell a story we already know too well? Her name was Africa. ![]() And when everything else is gone, you can be rich in loss.” Of course to forget the past is to lose the sense of loss that is also memory of an absent richness and a set of clues to navigate the present by the art is not one of forgetting but letting go. It peels off like skin from a molting snake. The material falls away in onrushing experience. The wind blows your hair back and you are greeted by what you have never seen before. Looking forward you constantly acquire moments of arrival, moments of realization, moments of discovery. This is what the view looks like if you take a rear-facing seat on the train. Imagine yourself streaming through time shedding gloves, umbrellas, wrenches, books, friends, homes, names. Or you get lost, in which case the world has become larger than your knowledge of it. Everything is familiar except that there is one item less, one missing element. There are objects and people that disappear from your sight or knowledge or possession you lose a bracelet, a friend, the key. Losing things is about the familiar falling away, getting lost is about the unfamiliar appearing. ![]()
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