your tongues will learn to roll against the pricking
2016
watercolor, ink, gouache on paper
51.5"x66"
In this boot-stamped world where the town endlessly twirled, the King issued an edict:
By my strings you will curtsy while I fill your breath with burrs and your tongues will learn to roll against the pricking of swallowing my sharp words.
As the home fires burned, the townspeople, cursed their fate with bloodied mouths.
But then, as the spring rains came to the tiny twirling town the people began to see a freedom in holding the sharpest of the words, "All is well", as a victory over fate, a sacred hope that they alone could own.
By my strings you will curtsy while I fill your breath with burrs and your tongues will learn to roll against the pricking of swallowing my sharp words.
As the home fires burned, the townspeople, cursed their fate with bloodied mouths.
But then, as the spring rains came to the tiny twirling town the people began to see a freedom in holding the sharpest of the words, "All is well", as a victory over fate, a sacred hope that they alone could own.
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