Speeches From A White Cube – Marion


I would ask you to pry open this space
and talk of everything
all moments of life can speak through this magic
I will read the words of the artist
like tripped up thread
scarred through the length of its tracking
torn by its needle along its way to expression
this too is beauty
and the lilting and meandering words of children
make art into the most unexpected of meanings
I like to walk into the home of the artist
where wine wanders into a glass without asking
with one hand on the artists arm I walk close enough to touch his work
the work that he says has made him vulnerable
foam corners fill an adjacent room
ready to hug
what has been claimed as glory
flown far
to fall onto the walls of another white cube
where I imagine new feet crossing over each other
faces come close enough for touching
on the gray floor I can almost hear heels tap
and the echo that measures out this space
like water filling out its wave
art must be placed by a system
all seems sewn under and hidden
one history falls open
to reach into the next
I pull the children through the gallery
when they learn from beauty
none of us can stop staring


About erin bosenberg

This entry was posted in 2013 - 2014 Art Publics & Interruption, Speeches From A White Cube and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s