-Kiki Smith's Illustrated poem Concordance written with Mei-mei Berssenbrugge
Working backward in sleep, the
last thing you numbed to is what
wakes you.
What if that image were Eros as
words?
words?
I write to you and you feel me.
What would it be like if you
contemplated my words and I felt
you?
Animals, an owl, frog, open their
eyes, and a mirror forms on the
ground.
When insight comes in a dream,
and events the next day
illuminate it, this begins your
streaming consciousness,
synchronicity, asymptotic lines
of the flights of concordances.
An owl opens its eyes in deep
woods.
For the first time, I write and you
don't know me.
Milkweed I touch floats.
What would it be like if you
contemplated my words and I felt
you?
Animals, an owl, frog, open their
eyes, and a mirror forms on the
ground.
When insight comes in a dream,
and events the next day
illuminate it, this begins your
streaming consciousness,
synchronicity, asymptotic lines
of the flights of concordances.
An owl opens its eyes in deep
woods.
For the first time, I write and you
don't know me.
Milkweed I touch floats.
WHAT CAN one say about Kiki Smith, about her work's breathtaking depth? I know the way she moves me is the same way food stirs and undoes me. It is its darkness, its mythology, its mystery, its sustaining life.
Food is painting/sculpture, it is hand-made form. In large part it involves seeing (along with every other sense), and I'm not swayed by featherweight minimalism - I love the shadowy human story and all that interconnected depth and darkness.
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