In Lieu is pleased to announce Petal’s Path, an exhibition of new pencil on canvas works by Maren Karlson. This marks Karlson’s first solo exhibition with the gallery.
Open wound
Shared plate
Chicken wing
Grass blade
Every day is a day to celebrate
Today we're celebrating a
And how it will go when
(from the outside and moving inwards in a circle):
horse horse horse horse horse horse horse (purple)
goat goat goat goat goat goat (light purple)
sheep sheep sheep sheep (white)
dog dog dog (light pink)
two rats (dark pink)
with a beetle in the center
and green all around (behind the horses)
Or is it like:
Two tall wet secrets sit in the dark. Their right arms curl around their soggy bodies, they scratch each other's backs. Something sweet-smelling grows on the floor and you can see everything even though there is no light coming in from anywhere. A third secret taps you on the shoulder... excuse me? Have you seen my secret?
Perhaps it's more like...
Rocks turn to dust, trees, flowers, and bodies blow away as ash. Humans no longer need to describe their surroundings with words... what escapes them is the definition of what is not present, what they cannot see, what cannot be put to words... over and over they grasp at making the inhuman relatable, to visualize, they struggle to name and to hold all that lies beyond sensory recognition...
We digress; was that it?
It's two waves crashing in the same direction, against each other, spraying saltwater into the air behind them, licking the tops of the cliffs on which trees born of the dead grow tall. Every sixth clap of the waves tenderly loosens a tree from the soil; the tree slips noiselessly into the sea. To go there and to feel the presence of the departed is enough; unknowable senses confirm the truth of memories...
Or were they dreams? Also it wasn't noiseless. Now flowers break the ash, the food should be here soon...
-Caroline David
