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Movement |
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written
by sunyuh / 10.03.2005 |
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| Sculpture and movement |
1 of 1 |
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Assignment |
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She’s always being chased. It has everything to do with the cloth and the way it is folded, the branches leaping out. It’s layered and shaped into a silky visage. The touch is surely full of stone—but in modernity, we do not touch art. The touch is surely full of stone, but all the eyes can see are softly bended clothes and sharp leaves—clothes and leaves that are bending with the wind.
I flew past them as if I was afraid that they would catch me and keep me. The colors burned, and tried to reach me as it turned gray. Caught inside his beautiful myth of colors and love that evolve into stained memories. He pulls me away from this world I desperately want to touch. I peeled away. In front his eyes and this audience.
Water them for me.
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