ZEST! I am walking on the sky decorated with blue clouds. My shadow gets bigger the closer I am to the light. I feel like a fly on the wall, preferring to stroll along instead of using my wings. I am flying but not at the same time. Let's paint the arrested in the western Iranian breeze. To do what normally cannot be done is a strange yet wondrous sensation. I can feel the smooth and cool surface of the white wall beneath my feet.
ZILCH! My toes touch the empty wall. My shadow shrinks the farther I am from the light. It hides in the non-white sections of the corners but never disappears. Fill up my Swiss diplomats representing American ties. I am the work of art on the wall, unframed, but still restricted by strings. I need to be held up like a painting.
ZOUNDS! I am a dancer in Trisha Brown's "Walking on the Wall." This art piece is a performance where dancers are strapped to harnesses that are connected to tracks on the ceiling. I am a moving painting. So are the other dancers. We can defy gravity and walk on the wall. My hair reminds me that I cannot fully defy the laws of gravity. It falls to one side, in the direction that gravity dictates. I can feel the blood in my head and body going down the same way, like the particular patterns on a sculpture with painted asymmetry.
ZONE! I can go left or right. I have to adjust my harness to go up or down. I cannot freely move as I please because I am restricted, bound by the ceiling tracks. I have to keep my arms to my sides to contribute to the illusion of walking on the wall. I restrict myself.
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Hi Trang, Good job. Elegant description! Please compare my (slight) revisions with your draft and let me know what you think.
ReplyDeleteFor a homework assignment, please look up the artist Eva Hesse in the UCI LANSON LIBRARY. Pick a book about Eva Hesse with a lot of pictures in it. Please check out this book and bring it to class on Tuesday, August 25th. Thanks!
ZEST! I am walking on the sky decorated with blue clouds. My shadow gets bigger, the closer I am to the light. I feel like a fly on the wall, preferring to stroll along instead of using my wings. I am flying but not at the same time. {THIS LAST SENTENCE CONFUSES ME. COULD YOU SAY MORE?} Let's paint the arrested in the western Iranian breeze. To do what normally cannot be done is a strange, yet wondrous sensation. I can feel the smooth and cool surface of the white wall beneath my feet.
ZILCH! My toes touch the empty wall. My shadow shrinks the farther I am from the light. My shadow hides in the non-white sections of the corners but never disappears. Fill up my Swiss diplomats representing American ties. I am the work of art on the wall, unframed, but still restricted by strings. I need to be held up like a painting.
ZOUNDS! I am a dancer in Trisha Brown's "Walking on the Wall." This art piece is a performance where dancers are strapped to harnesses that are connected to tracks on the ceiling. I am a moving painting. So are the other dancers. We can defy gravity and walk on the wall. My hair reminds me that I cannot fully defy the laws of gravity. It falls to one side, in the direction that gravity dictates. I can feel the blood in my head and body going down the same way, like the particular patterns on a sculpture with painted asymmetry.
ZONE! I can go left or right. I have to adjust my harness to go up or down. I cannot freely move as I please, because I am restricted, bound by the ceiling tracks. I have to keep my arms to my sides, to contribute to the illusion of walking on the wall. I restrict myself.