Monory/The Thief 1986
silkscreen/Artist's event drawn from this poem:
"And on the interlaced bridges, we danced the little girl and me.
Our feet barely grazed the metal crossings, blurred, as molten, but our graceful shadows did not even touch them. We danced there, under the last long and dark drops of an old blue downpour that already the drunken wind projected further. The metal ramps, the rails of the roller coasters, the pillars and the guards, all undulateded and blended into an intoxicating whirlwind of cross-hunting. The ramp gushing endlessly twisted and ondoyaited to infinity. The speed clouded the cars and the fine air, but we remained motionless, dancing.
I lifted the little girl, My little thief, her white dress made like a sweet fresh froufrou, similar to her burst of laughter tinkling in the air, waving to the rhythm of her hair, her long soft curls. My Little thief so light – but what had she stolen, except the Evanescence of the Sparks? –, separated from me by a single long and thin little thread of darkness. I raised her in a azure and radiant momentum, as a precious volatile present at the Empyrean.
Behind us was an interminable line of lanterns, and every firefly, every blue, pulsait to the sound of his laughter, setting his dress and the ribbons of her hair with a whiter sheen than white, ghostly and pearly, innocent. Under the pale light of the lanterns, yet glowing in the clear and faded sky, we danced endlessly, grayed out by the blue, while paraded in a great maelstrom soft, vortex and whirling, the blurred stations of reality that we had Abandoned. "
Reference Object #16009