allisonwightman@mcad.edu

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i want to grow in the ground too

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these rivers run from there to here. the wind finds trees to move, then goes again. daily the rocks accumulate position. and with them an interchangeable score. the wind rises in a fucking endless volume. the mind, fast as it goes, loses pace. puts in place of it rocks, simple markers. for a way only to hopefully come back to where it cannot. there is nothing. and me, why me, on any day might be favored with such prosperity or sunk in wretched misery. i cannot stop the weather by putting together myself and others to stop those rivers. or hold the wind with my hand from the tree, the mind from the thing. how carelessly ease falls around me! all the rocks have the moss all green. be natural while alive. call, call loud. i will hear you. and if not me, the wind will, for sake of the tree.

-robert creely

• artist statement and resume


i want to grow in the ground too