As
I
make
my
preparations
to
leave
again
I
find
myself
individually
detaching
each
of
a
hundred
tiny
strings
binding
a
hot
air
balloon
to
a
platform.
When
I
peer
over
the
edge
later
I
will
see
the
distantly
familiar
landscape
as
made
of
vectors,
simplified
and
sharpened.
(I
expect
most
of
the
surviving
photographs
to,
over
time,
develop
this
same
peculiar
quality.)
=> info | Construct a last
Exhibition: The Last Performance [dot org] @ Haus Der Kulturen Der Welt