Lying in the tent, the sun creeping through the mesh window and the air growing warm and thick, I can smell her. She's asleep, still, tucked into a thick blue sleeping bag. Her arms stretched above her head. She smells a little sweet, with a touch of something musky. It's a good smell. The air outside the tent is quiet. The world outside the tent is quiet. We've been here a couple of days, camped on a hillside between burnt out trees. The fire came through a couple seasons ago; the grass has grown back, though now it's dry. Where there were lodgepole and bristlecone now there are blackened spires of burnt wood and charcoal. Up the slope a ways are the remains of a house: a stone foundation and burnt lumber, glass melted and cooled in long flowing drips and glossy frozen pools. An old truck, too, overtaken by flame and half-melted, half-charred, all rusted, crouches among the returning brush. But right now, it's still, and quiet. Her face is tilted a little toward me. Her eyes are closed, her cheek is smudged with soot and her hair is sticking to the side of her face, slick with sweat. She's smiling a little: just a slight upturn at the corner of her lips. I lie back down and look at her sleeping. An insect buzzes outside in the heat. It's morning and we''ll have to move again, before the sun goes dark.
The Barometric Pressure is All Over the Place: Laura Bernstein and Daniel J Glendening
A two-person exhibition at Anytime Dept, Cincinnati, Ohio. September 29-October 29, 2017
Manifesto 3: Hang the Bodies on the Fence
Wood, concrete, hardware, gloves, wire, bucket. 5'10" x 12" x 12"
Manifesto 4: When I Look at You I Feel Infinite
Wood, hardware, concrete, wire, drawer, bucket, oil on towel, oil on dishdowel. 5'10" x 36" x 24"
Manifesto 2: A Dream is a Weapon
Concrete, detritus. Dimensions variable; each slab approximately 2" x 12" x 9"