I said “Would you like a rope? You know that haul you have is not secured properly.”
“No,” he said, “but I see you have string!”
“If this comes into motion—” I said, “you should use a rope.”
“Any poison ivy on that? ” he asked me, and I told him my rope had been in the barn peacefully for years.
He took a length of it to the bedside table. He had no concept for what wood could endure.
“Table must have broken when I lashed it onto the truck,” he said.
And, when he was moving the sewing machine, he let the cast iron wheels—bang, bang on the stair.
I had settled down to pack up the flamingo cookie jar, the cutlery, and the cookware, but stopped briefly, for how many times do you catch sudden sight of something heartfelt?
I saw our milk cows in their slow...

• Zensur
• Identität
• Überwachung
• Gender
• Geheimdienste
• Russland
• Körper
• DDR
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• Malerei
• Ikonographie
• Motiv
• Gott

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• Neoliberalismuskritik
• Geburt
• Soziale Bewegungen

• Realismus
• Kunsttheorie
• Humanismus
• Reenactment
• Künstlerische Praxis
• Postmoderne