Waving
November 17, 2018 - January 27, 2019

Alta Buden, Andrew Erdos, Nazafarin Lotfi, Zack Rafuls

 

Press Release

I’ve become aware of myself.
On my back, floating. The water trembling over and through me as we adjust. Assuming all of this. So I open my eyes to accept wherever I am. The sky is pale and I was right about the water. Bisected, a fluid line drawn on my perimeter. Splashing gently when my chin tucks, and chest balloons.
Resist stiffening, stay light.
Acclimate to the flow, and find where it’s going. The back of my neck tightens as I crane forward and search for landmarks. The entire horizon is a sharp line through two similar shades of grey. I can’t tell if their collision is land, or the water pulling further from me. But I suppose if my situation read that dire – my only option would be to swim however far.
Can I even swim? I can’t really be sure.
Do I need to swim? I can try to be sure.
Slowly, I submerge one leg, looking for a floor. Vastness must have its limits, and should have known to test them. The water rises over my knee, up my thigh. My angle increasingly dramatic until a quiet splash on the hilt of my hip gasps, and thrusts my body correct. My heart struggles to beat the current. The water is lukewarm, lacks personality.
And the day is illuminated. But I don’t know from where. Something glowing evenly above, and reflecting from me. We are overcast, and I can’t make a single definition of a cloud. Another splash, and there still hasn’t been any wind.
Someone must have put me in here. I don’t know what happened. I’m just here. No one has spoken to me. I must not understand. Or, I must have put me here, I’ve just become aware.
I intuited, I assumed, I actuated. I see, I feel, I make.
And I can unmake. Better yet, I can remake. I close my eyes, drop my shoulders, stretch my fingers, let air out of my lungs.
I think about a lake, as I am an island.  

-Corey Durbin


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