ARTIST STATEMENT:

Shells, Hulls, and the Dangers of the Used Car Trade

inside outside inside exclusive and inclusive

light and shadow

what we built to hold us worked alright, and holds us as a lover
soft enough to never be broken
least of all from inside the circle

beauty – does it exist within what functions?
is the project of modern architecture newer faster more? well, forget me nots grow in the forgotten parks
where children play among rusted metal,
waiting for some forest fire,
some controlled, slow burn,
in the residential zone
so that the poplars may grow taller-
a girl picked one of them, and,
handing it to me said-
he was an old man when he built it.

what goes on in there? what is the happening?
is it an event with many echoes, such as i or is it rather a dull thudding event
does it fall like rock in still lake
or does it fall like a fall leaf falls, falling unnoticed
and finally fallen in fall

or does it lilt, maybe,
like broken pirouettes in the music box
lilt in a funny, clown songing cinderish kind of way\ when the banks all close and the rush leaves
bereft of paycheck and all advantage
when the flood hits, to the disastrous firmament

and the cries of children god promised with rainbows
rainbows
that run away from those whose are dumb enough to pay chase to chase the payoff, at the end,
where, inside, inside
beauty waits the beauty\
of dozens of invisible, antlike gods-
where they lie building mounds and mounds of sound sight smell,
where they drink their strangely tactile waters
and I the stomach turn to wine
and the child,
flower in hand
asks them,

what is inside- does it hold me? am I inside?

and they answer

inside is your marriage, your home, your block, your drinking companion- what will your inside be- will it be a monument to a sloth?
so be it.
a decorous wasteland
will it be the just city
very well.

i am what your inside wanted to be. yes, you are inside,
but I probably couldn’t say.

Written by Patrick Fadely