Monday, 4 June 2012

turtle transformations, classy breaks



In 2011, my son Stuart, aka Slave Labour, brought some turtle parts from a work site, over to my house on mother's day. He shepherded Theo and I out onto the back patio, along with three lightweight boards of white rectangle. He pulled a paint can from his bag, and commenced the performance. A threefold gift: the memory lingers, the glass turtle now lives on my balcony upstairs, and the tripartite turtle stands on the wall of the dining area-workspace-livingroom, a place of conjunction.

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