MEMORY OF (for Kazuko Miyamoto) By Yuko Otomo
1.
In search of lost time,
I spread a sheet of invisible mist
on the hard floor, alone at night,
to place objects of various memories;
big & small; tangible & intangible; fragile & solidified.
Soon, the floor becomes a dark ocean.
In its immensity,
I see myself as a tiny fish.
In search of lost time,
I swim,
through familiar & unfamiliar dust,
through brown bags twisted in a ritualistic form,
through stretched hard constructions of soft strings
supported by an abundance of nails,
through nonchalantly assembled weathered twigs,
through tortured sheetrock,
through mischievously erotic loose fabrics,
through obediently reformed old newspaper articles,
through lost time,
I keep swimming
till I lose sight of myself
in the ocean’s immortal weight & immeasurable depth.
2.
Is it morning? Or afternoon? I don’t know.
But I know that I am in a room
full of windows of light/shadow.
I do not hear too much sound
except for my own beating heart.
Bewildered by the fresh sensation,
I walk around the room.
Soon the room turns into a landscape, breathing,
spotted with a thick forest, a winding river, a deep valley & a quiet meadow.
Responding to this expansive scenery,
with an innocent & natural awe,
I suddenly become a bird.
I fly, circling around the sky above
& rest my wings occasionally
on the tree branches, on the grass, on the rocks & boulders
of my life: the history of my art.
Whenever I brush against a breeze called MEMORY OF,
I un-bashfully call my first name & greet my very self,
simply saying “ Hello Kazuko, How are you?”
I hear my voice echo
in unison with my lost time
in the vastness of light/shadow
ever so clearly.

Opening Reception: Wednesday, Sept 6, from 6 - 8pm.

mpefm USA art press release