Thesis: Clouds against my cheek, Soil behind my ears, Sweet sweaty raindrops, Too loose to lose the shape of me.
It widens and snuggles, crawling through one body to another.
Garance calls it a womb in a sidewalk. And she is laying in it.
After sculpting it. Her hands pulling earth from under tiles.
Tiles from under our feet. Healing the disappearance of the
- world from around us. It's a rejection of the dominant posi
tion above. No longer willing to tower she seeks the horizontal
position. Processing the acceptance of the limitations dictated
by her own body. Her testament to presence through gestures.
The womb was a momentary rebellious action that still bounces
around in her thoughts. A reclaiming of space as corporeal by
igniting senses other than sight. She speaks of a boundlessness
through a negation of value and form. Like the pomegranate
and bee that share a sensual density in their complexity.
By Quincy Gario