What We Mean by Carry the Water - letterpress print
What We Mean by Carry the Water
5x7inch letterpress print
Black ink on soft white Flurry Cotton cardstock
My beloveds are hurting. Loss is close and
heavy and hard; destruction feels endless.
The scale of suffering is bleak. We have cried
so many hot tears and screamed in the streets
and raised money and made art and thrown our
bodies on the gears of empire and still these
colonial abusers leave us battered. Despair is
lodged in our throats. And yet - someone needs
to feed the baby. Someone needs to steady the
elder on the walk to the car. Someone needs to
hike into the holler with supplies and to shovel
the mud out of the living room. Someone
needs to clean the child’s hands. Someone
needs to make dinner, to paint the banner for
the protest, and to bring flowers to the friend
who just had surgery. Someone needs to be the
one who is carrying naloxone. Someone needs
to have the difficult conversation, and to hold
the liminal hand of the dying. Someone needs
to carry the water, so we can bring it to each
other’s lips. Drink, my love. I brought you this
because your life is precious.
____________________
Written on October 10, 2024 & printed on October 11, 2024 on my Heidelberg Windmill. A portion of proceeds will go to Colaborativa La Milpa in Asheville, NC to support Hurricane Helene relief efforts.
What We Mean by Carry the Water
5x7inch letterpress print
Black ink on soft white Flurry Cotton cardstock
My beloveds are hurting. Loss is close and
heavy and hard; destruction feels endless.
The scale of suffering is bleak. We have cried
so many hot tears and screamed in the streets
and raised money and made art and thrown our
bodies on the gears of empire and still these
colonial abusers leave us battered. Despair is
lodged in our throats. And yet - someone needs
to feed the baby. Someone needs to steady the
elder on the walk to the car. Someone needs to
hike into the holler with supplies and to shovel
the mud out of the living room. Someone
needs to clean the child’s hands. Someone
needs to make dinner, to paint the banner for
the protest, and to bring flowers to the friend
who just had surgery. Someone needs to be the
one who is carrying naloxone. Someone needs
to have the difficult conversation, and to hold
the liminal hand of the dying. Someone needs
to carry the water, so we can bring it to each
other’s lips. Drink, my love. I brought you this
because your life is precious.
____________________
Written on October 10, 2024 & printed on October 11, 2024 on my Heidelberg Windmill. A portion of proceeds will go to Colaborativa La Milpa in Asheville, NC to support Hurricane Helene relief efforts.
What We Mean by Carry the Water
5x7inch letterpress print
Black ink on soft white Flurry Cotton cardstock
My beloveds are hurting. Loss is close and
heavy and hard; destruction feels endless.
The scale of suffering is bleak. We have cried
so many hot tears and screamed in the streets
and raised money and made art and thrown our
bodies on the gears of empire and still these
colonial abusers leave us battered. Despair is
lodged in our throats. And yet - someone needs
to feed the baby. Someone needs to steady the
elder on the walk to the car. Someone needs to
hike into the holler with supplies and to shovel
the mud out of the living room. Someone
needs to clean the child’s hands. Someone
needs to make dinner, to paint the banner for
the protest, and to bring flowers to the friend
who just had surgery. Someone needs to be the
one who is carrying naloxone. Someone needs
to have the difficult conversation, and to hold
the liminal hand of the dying. Someone needs
to carry the water, so we can bring it to each
other’s lips. Drink, my love. I brought you this
because your life is precious.
____________________
Written on October 10, 2024 & printed on October 11, 2024 on my Heidelberg Windmill. A portion of proceeds will go to Colaborativa La Milpa in Asheville, NC to support Hurricane Helene relief efforts.
