After our collaborative show, Un:Pact, I was left with nothing but visions and dreams of cardboard. I’d close my eyes and the interior of my eyelids were laced with cardboard. I’d grasp for the gentle embrace of a friend’s hand and I would feel between my claw like fingers the dry and unwelcoming touch of cardboard. Cardboard became the bane of my existence, until I detoxed with alcohol and the visions slowly faded. Now free of the phantoms, I can sit back and reflect on the show.
I commend my fellow participants on how they rid of their egos and our collective brains became a hive mind. I am joyous about how we managed to harmoniously create something which included very little of our own practices. In the end, landing on a uniform description of the work we would have originally displayed. Albeit, the curation flowed as one, I feel there still lingered the individuality from each artist within the written work hidden and displayed.