Moonbox Notes #4: May 2022

It’s been 7 weeks. A span of time that is impossible to convey without some form of exaggeration. It’s been like dreaming. Mountains rise and fall away. The tightness changes into pain into tightness into dull shapes at the heel or arch or up the calf in cables. There are moments I forget everything. Sleep a black sleep. Then there are flashing scenes: tea bag, tent pitch, the slow tug of a climbing shoe around the heel, a spoon on the tongue, hairbrush, riverbank, paintings of indigenous feminism in a museum. … More Moonbox Notes #4: May 2022

Moonbox Notes #3: April 2022

The festival itself encompasses aspects of this as well, the play of meeting new people, the play of finding yourself sipping rum and coke as you watch people spin fire, the play of helping others, the play of witnessing visual art in a public space, the play of learning hard truths — play, as in, the novelty, sure, but also the reciprocity, the indulgence, the curiosity, the embodiment, the unpredictability. … More Moonbox Notes #3: April 2022

Moonbox Notes #2: March 2022

Even the Gray Wolf with a dark, mottled coat that stares at me from the wall-calendar photo is a part of this meta-equation. The forested background is blurred, the foreground is soft in grass and wind, the only sharpness being the wolf: a premise, if you will, one that contemplates the viewer. Not unlike a physical bridge, where what happens before and after, or maybe even during the crossing, is specific to the user; the prompt is only ever a bridge. … More Moonbox Notes #2: March 2022