Finalist of the Broomhill Sculpture Prize

Claudia Borgna

Sunday, 5 June 2011

'Weep me to hollow tears' video and statement


Yesterday I saw a nice family outside their brand new holiday home.
An old oak tree shadowing their Sunday talk, 
its spring leaves overhearing their future: 

The trunk is violating: 
The branches are invading: 

In the back a radio announcement: 
Europeans raising their borders back up. 
A blockage against the sea: 
gallons of flesh and souls vainly tested out by the water and washed away, into the void. 
Echoes bouncing off the raise and fall: 
ancient rhythm of waves breaking on futuristic walls.

My hands working, making, faster, more, 
plastic bags, thousands. 
I am like a machine in the factory. 
One bag after the other, 
to forget, 
to protest: 
my cowardness.

Quick, more monuments, to remind what I keep forgetting. 
Quick, I need to commemorate my story, 
protect my fence, 
justify my petrified heart.

Today I saw another overlooked object wondering across a new frontier. 

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