We had arrived that day not sure what to expect. I think I was excited and nervous all at the same time.
Excited to see this work of art that has been replicated in most every art history book I've ever had on contemporary art.
Nervous about what we would really see contrasted to that of which I thought I knew and what I would do.
I had packed most of my performance gear but I had not completely understood my relationship to the work and how my own interest and process would work itself out. I took one look at the blue clear sky, a blue I often search for in Houston, and knew the pink wig and dress must come out. The wind perfect for the shaking of my pink hair. A pink wig gesturing "no." A reference to pop culture and more specifically Britney Spears and her own relationship with public judgment, ideas of celebrity and I could go on. (but I'll keep that brief)
The hot pink dress as an object itself was perfect padding for sitting on the rocks, keeping cool, and allowed for me to move around easily; a piece of gear more hikers should consider, old 80's prom dresses cut off short. I had planned on spinning till I fell. Spinning into a dizzy stumble. I had videotaped my walk around the jetty (which ended up not recording at all) the twists, the curves enough to create a disorienting effect. The black basalt rocks were like broken chunks of dark chocolate. The work seemed to welcome my intrusion of color. The landscape had allowed me to enter as another force that exists within this same space. I felt small but I felt seen.
Six hours at the jetty, I blew up the fluorescent pink inner tube, spun around in the center like one of those ballerinas in a jewelry box, shook my head till i couldn't do it anymore, ate a peanut butter popsicle with Jacinda, collected rocks in white lunch sacks, and documented Jacinda's work and ourselves - just to name a few.
The time here went by so fast, the six hours could have easily turned into nine, maybe longer. But we had the interruption of the raging mosquitoes and a group of sisters cackling about. These occurrences are a natural wave that washes over the entire environment, changing with each passing second.