...a deathly serenade...

door a fat black girl then loudly tripped on a
sculpture, which consisted of a knife positioned in
some green molding with an African mask stuck
to the molding on its right side, and as Antonin
was stood in front of the piece of work it seemed
to fall at a rapid pace towards him, only missing
him slightly to then fall onto the floor. Danger
averted somewhat, Antonin took this as a real
happening: he became particularly connected to
this work and eventually befriended the American
Artist, Suki, but what became most strange was
his perception of the incident: to him it stood as a
connection to his hatred for gentrification, siting
the knife juxtaposing the African mask. Which
Suki reinforced by mentioning that this was what
she had intended the work to mean, even though
in the sheet of paper provided, back and front,
there was not a single mention of anything like
that, and I overheard her conversation with
Antonin. —It reflects the emotions between the
devastation of gentrification and the subtle
qualities in envy, said Antonin, quite impressively
I may add. It is very moving. —Well, yes it does,
said Suki as if readjusting herself in a higher
pitch. But it can mean whatever a person thinks it
means. I was checked out by the time she said this
—A cop out, I thought. He was so enamoured
with this piece of work that he bought it and kept
a piece of the molding on him, at all times. I
found this connection totally ridiculous, and very
much the way in which Antonin saw connections,
that were simply not really there, in my eyes. After
the gallery show I asked Felicity too and she
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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