material-based painting practice

i remember thinking i had two homes i kept crossing. jfk to sdq sdq to jfk as if taking the bridge to manhattan and back enough times meant something stayed at least thats what she told me again and again ''this is your home its fine... youre just exploring the world'' everything was always on the other side close enough the ice cream is already melting the figure has no face neither do the fruit the red moon knows i thought it would hold its been ten years

the table is still set the coffee is still warm the street is still hers but the doors are dark the sun is already up the moon is still there no one is missing at first then everyone is the sky remembers what the houses hide her emotions kept their color the world lost its names the coffee waits longer than it should so does she

the boxes are not treasures they are proof he took over her care i lost the one i mothered the hand tells the truth the blood moon is dripping the only family I ever knew is gone and not even six feet below he moved my things to storage im sorry, cant go to work i missed the train again

oh... again the same! not the same? the moon! is here still here? like that