Time passed so quickly that I mislaid it. I looked for it in the cracks of the city, in the fissures of pavement, in the scars of the skin, in the hairs on the ground, in the marks on the wall, in the fallen paint, in the print left by a stain, in the trace that shows that there was a photo…and I found it. I found it in a new form and in a new space.
Time goes by, we hold it; we hold overlapped memories and others that have been lost. Art allows me to find them, not finding whatever has been lost, but undertaking a search that leads me to new places.
