Crack and Shift Thea M. Zwier

human buys earth. human mixes earth, makes forms of clouds from earth.  human makes clouds.  human defines "cloud" in form.  human breaks clouds.  human puts clouds back together.  human puts water in clouds, makes them drip, makes them rain, makes them weep.  human puts earth beneath clouds to catch the leeking.  When the clouds are dry and empty again, when the moist earth below holds water stained like blood, then I lower the clouds down to myself and fill them again.  

human stands in earth and wonders where I am?

And where am I now?
Context: Monday March 23rd of 2020 was planned to be the (part 1) Sculpture thesis show, my and my classmate's thesis show, at Pratt.  and then, pandemic.  So that's not happening anymore.  But this is instead.  In lieu of a physical sculpture and a show I have created this blog (Above is my artist statement for my would-have-been thesis piece.  enjoy).  Lucky you, whoever you may be, unknown and possibly nonexistent listener, you get to watch me track my thought process, all of the associations, and inspirations; all the places my thoughts can possibly go on this topic of my own creation, my thesis.  Expected content are sound recordings, photos, videos, writing, a song from my childhood, and many, many little fluffy clouds.  This will all lead to something, as most all things do. At the very least this will be a cathartic way for me to monologue to myself. (if your here with me, send message via carrier pigeon.  Smoke signals are also accepted) feedback is welcome.  The intention so far is that this will culminate in a film/video thing and I will post fragments of it and/or source material along the way.  When this project is finished another one will most likely develop and take over.  We'll see how, and how long this goes together, possibly nonexistent, captive audience.  So buckle up buttercup, strap in babes and barbarians and keep your hands and feet, if there are even hands and feet to speak of, inside the blog at all times.  "I sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world" (Walt Whitman, Song of Myself). Thanks for listening.