Recycled American Flags exhibited outside Fayerweather Gallery, University of Virginia, 2000
Installation for Aqua, an Auto-Tonic Reverberations production

Walking along The Lawn (the original quad of the University of Virginia, designed by Thomas Jefferson) under pavilion awnings, numbered in Greek, my own time stops as I have forgotten when I had left and where I needed to go. Cloudy today, humid, wet, green grass. It must have just rained. I wonder how it is still so warm. The indecipherable haze above gives a communal feeling of enclosure. To the individual: anonymity. The Conscious mind is stagnant, recollecting the interior; solid objects, daily routines, convinced against impending collapsibility, the infinite in the infinitesimal.
The Lawn is like a carpet with even hills like ramps for handicap accessibility, pampered for the upcoming spring tours. The oaks have tar-filled wounds and maintain a domestic obedience, planted systematically to the beat of the columned pavilions, and the rhythmic pattern of the brick laid walk. The Lawn inspires and perpetuates interior thinking. Today the economy of walking is kept to the brick paths. A common voice of lawn dwellers behind wooden doors is heard as my eyes pass by their mailslots.
The Lawn stretches and recedes from view. I don't bother looking, until the sound of two boys, one bat, and one ball awakens my interest. A heavy plastic toy contact: a loud splash of sound defines the surrounding buildings as like a large colander.
I smile: pitching... the batter fouls one off, and catches the next with one hand. I gather details of a passerby: eyecontact... yes.
I instantly notice a ball rolling across the brick walk directly in front of me, covered in duct tape, I field it perfectly in time, throw it towards the batter with abandon, through an empty spring tree.
Batter says, "Thanks."
I am speechless.
Mighty boy, please, believe me to be truly a spirit.