About the work

The cereal bowl isn’t really on the hamper; it’s on a book, on a folded towel, which is on the hamper, and the hamper is full to bursting with something that has been waiting. Maybe the hamper itself is an extension of the bed, a soft edge of linen and cotton, an unmade continuation of their slumber. These are the clothes they took off yesterday, or the day before. The cereal bowl is a temporary thing, a pause, a moment, a bright circle for a very small hand. But how did it get there, right now, balanced so carefully, with the children sleeping so soundly nearby?