STONES BECAME HORSES
I BECAME A STONE
BW: And this?
HL: I don’t want to talk about it!
[Each summer as I walk Nantasket Beach certain stones catch my eye and whisper things such as ‘I’m beautify, collect me,’ ‘I’m ugly, collect me,’ ‘I show the history of this planet, collect me.’ I collect stones only if they agree to transform themselves into horses – that’s what stones did when I was a kid in Idaho. The pretty rocks I collected on Idaho’s sandy hills became horses in the play ranch I constructed under my grandmother’s apple tree. Later, much later, memories of those stones transformed themselves into horses in the pages of my artist-books and folios. Now those pages merge with Nantasket stones and shadows in Polyvore sets.]

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