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.