closed door
i have all i need and am finally on my own when an advertisement finds its way into the home.
know where the gallery is otherwise how do we find the art?
a
little reminder that i am an extension of the working mechanisms from
which there is no stepping out. If I am here then it is too late;
gentrification.
no energy or spare resources for all of the culture going on outside the window in another building for the survival of objects.
in the end we would eat sand to survive
or any dirt or grit to suspend that feeling of emptiness