joy in the duveen


my mother took me to the British Museum many times as a child. It has been my workhouse for some years now. She let me run and hyperglycemic scream through the Parthenon Sculptures – wild reactions to the broken horse heads of the Parthenon just as with Epstein’s Rock Drill at the old Tate.






Since March 2010 my mother has lived in the crevices of rocks and the armature of sculpture, a modern Mimi Spirit.


Leave a message for Erkembode or leave your shoes atop the tomb...

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