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SAWAKO NAKASU on
ECHO EGGEBRECHT |
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Sawako Nakasu
In the Form of
One radiant night wall. Flowers quietly in the form of. Minute locales which bring light,
otherwise known as the place where beams go to rest. Who watches as the night
swallows what, each angle finds its place, and a clarified exterior wells up out of the
sudden stillness.
Under each instance of arrival, an affordance of multiple entries each, to the barn or to
an internal weather that eventually gets forced out, shaped, strung, freeze-captured
before dropping to a ground called floor where there are pieces of it, them, all fibrous
pulp and lumber, an arrangement such that the snow, too, originates in either tree.
Hang, drop, return. That old-fashioned entry known, in some geographies, as the exit.
An unfinished abandonment against a wall called sky. |
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